Corydon
by poxelda
Summary: The final part of the Valhalla saga. warnings: language and violence
1. Chapter 1

*****This is the conclusion of the Valhalla Saga started in Insomnia. To follow the story I recommend reading these stories in this order: Insomnia, Valhalla, Masquerade, 13, Nightmares, and Unleashed. The story picks up immediately after Unleashed. Thanks for reading.  
**

Jack was not surprised to find Mac prowling back and forth like a trapped tiger. Fidget and Elmer who had been running in the overgrown lawn laid panting beside the Shelby watching the blond with canine worry. Jack felt the same worry. The birth certificate felt like it seared into his pocket. He stopped a short distance from his partner and waited knowing that talking to the kid before he'd calmed down a little would be futile.

The late summer forest buzzed with cicada calls and bees and butterflies lazily bumped from field flower to flower. The weather had turned out to be perfect. Sonrisa, Oregon was in the sweet spot. The hottest it got was 80-85 degrees. After traveling most of the deserts of the world and living in California, it was spring to the two men.

Somehow the beauty of the forest made the sagging house an uglier stain. Mac finally let out an angry growl and leaned against the back quarter of the Shelby. His blue eyes sparkled under the perfect unstained sky as Mac glared at the house with a combination of fear and rage that left him shaking. Jack took a deep breath and approached his partner silently leaning beside him. Jack eyed the younger man out the corner of his eye. Mac looked worn and tired. Shadows of the bruises and scars still healing crossed his too pale face. Jack looked away. He'd given Mac some of those bruises.

"Corydon," Mac muttered. Jack frowned at him and waited. They had found out that a person or group had been following Mac his entire life, surveying every day of his life, taking pictures and notes. No one knew why; it was part of the mysterious Corydon. It might be a person, a code name, a CIA project or something much worse. Corydon had taken control of Phoenix, and they hunted the core Phoenix team. Not one to give in to defeat, Phoenix was preparing to strike back, before they could they needed more intel.

This house haunted Mac's nightmares. He needed answers instead they keep bumping into another head of the hydra. Valhalla, Project Tantalus, and who knows what other tentacles reached deep in the highest offices of government. They also were not above using contractors. Six months ago Mac had been kidnapped and tortured. He'd had amnesia and had wondered lost near this very spot. His kidnappers, the RAPM a militia not far from here, had taken him from Los Angeles to this place after torturing Mac. Mac believed that it had been a test, a successful experiment. Mac had been forced to make weapons thanks to a chemical called Blue designed by Sarana, the daughter of the original creator of Valhalla.

Jack shook his head. There were so many twists and turns it made his head hurt. Jack rubbed his forehead. He had his own term of being programmed and still hadn't bounced back. Jack glanced at the bruises Mac sported and the way he held his side when he moved. Jack had beaten the crap out of his partner and shot him believing the kid to be an imposter.

"You ok?" Mac asked. Jack glanced at him but Mac didn't take his concentration off the broken house. Jack swallowed.

"Yeah, just a little ragged around the edges." Mac looked at him and gave him a grave smile.

"Yeah. We're missing something...there's something about this place…" Mac huffed rubbing his forehead. He had broken the automatic conditioning someone had stuck in his head but it had been a painful experience. Jack shuddered remembering Mac's seizure as his memory of his kidnapping and parts of his life before that broke through. Mac let out a small moan closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. Unfortunately, migraines seemed to be a permanent residual effect. Mac blinked and stood up straight. He turned to face Jack.

"You have rope?" Jack grinned and handed Mac the keys. The kid pulled the rope out of the trunk and trotted back to the house. Jack patted the dogs.

"I think we're gonna be going down into the dark rat-infested basement. If we don't come back go and get help ok, boys?" Elmer slapped the ground with his tail. Fidget stood up and wagged his butt thumping into the Shelby's door. Jack rolled his eyes and braced himself following the trail back to the house.

Sure enough, Mac had tied the rope to the most massive piece of furniture not rotted away and was standing over the round blast hole in the floor. Both men looked down. A rusted child-sized chair bolted to the cement floor with built-in metal manacles was readily visible in the light streaming in from an identical hole in the ceiling. Mac stared at it his hands pressed into white-knuckled fists. Jack could almost hear the grinding of his teeth.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jack felt obligated to ask. Mac swallowed, his face flashing with fear. Rotten garbage and rodent nests surrounding the tragic tiny chair made both their skins crawl. Mac turned his back to the hole and shrugged the rope over his shoulder and jumped into the dark tunnel. Jack watched him land calf deep in muck and clicked on the flashlight of his swiss army knife. Jack wrinkled his nose trying to not take in the mold and feces rotten smell. He shook his head and followed his partner.

There wasn't much left of the room. Under the holes explosives had punched out of the building rot, decay and vermin had infested the building. Mac looked up frowning. Jack pointed his flashlight in the same direction. All he saw was a squirming mass of bats hiding in the shadows.

"Ugh...if we don't get rabies it'll be a miracle," Jack muttered. Mac absently nodded studying something above them, "What do you see, bud?"

"The ceiling, it's reinforced steel and concrete." Jack blinked and saw what Mac meant. He frowned. The two men shared a worried look.

"What the hell were they doing down here?" Jack growled. Mac looked like he was going to be sick. Both of them added the silent, and what does it have to do with MacGyver? Rats scurried away as the two men waded through shredded files and moldy leaves. Mountains of rat-gnawed scraps of papers and scientific equipment covered tables circling the room along the walls. Other than a microscope and glass tubing, Jack had no idea what he was seeing. Mac closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"You ok?" Mac squinted at him and scowled. Ok, Jack admitted, stupid question, "What is all this stuff?" Mac hesitated before answering. Jack smiled. The young genius was translating a whole lot of nerd-speak into Jack-speak.

"Most of this is to take biological samples and study them. That flurescence camera over there is state of the art for studying cells of the brain." Jack frowned.

"How can it be thirty years old and state of the art today?" Mac grimaced.

"Exactly." Mac led them deeper into the dark interior of the house. The back of the room had a wide rusted metal door with no handle. To the side was a broken keypad and retina scanner.

"The plot thickens." Jack muttered looking over his shoulder. He couldn't shake the feeling someone was standing just out of sight behind them. Mac pulled out his knife and removed the electronic box. He grimaced reaching his hand in and pulled out a ribbon data cord.

"What are you going to do with that there isn't any electricity." Mac gritted his teeth and pulled out a long strand of that. He cut it off and slid it along the floor. A corner of the bottom of the door was rusted. He fed the ribbon under the door then pivoted it then yanked. The door cracked like a gunshot in the abandoned house then slid out enough for the two men to grip it and heave it open. Jack wiped sweat from his forehead. The sucker was six inches thick of reinforced steel and concrete.

To their surprise, automatic lights clicked on as they crossed the threshold. They were dim, and quite a few broken, but it let them conserve their flashlight batteries. Jack jumped at a rat squealing as it ran across the floor. Mac glanced at him an amused smile on his face. Jack shot him a glare.

A narrow corridor spread before them, more than a hundred feet long Jack guessed. The secret unit was longer than the house above them by a hundred meters. There was less damage done. Six rooms lined the left side of the hall three on the right.. The hall dead-ended in a single large door like the one they had entered.

"Holy shit!" Jack exclaimed looking through a small glass window in one of the doors to the left. Mac joined him and his eyebrows raised in surprise although he wasn't sure why. The six rooms were tiny cells. They had cribs with high bars or small children's beds. They were ugly white and had little toilets and sink.s It was like a prison for toddlers. Jack felt bile creep up the back of his throat. He glanced at Mac whose face had become an unemotional mask.

"Why the difference?" Mac asked. Jack frowned.

"What do you mean, kiddo?" Mac looked at him his lips pursed.

"The room upstairs was almost homey these...these are jail cells." Jack heard the question under the question. Was Mac born here? A birth certificate with his name on it declaring he was born in Olivet Hospital in Sonrisa OR had hung on the wall of a nursery decorated with care.

"I dunno, bud." Jack murmured. Mac huffed in frustration and pulled out his Swiss army knife. He jacked the rusted lock and opened one of the cells. They both turned away gagging. The room stank of car exhaust and decayed bodies. Jack stepped back into the hall. Even the organic nastiness of the chamber was better than the chemical death lingering in the cell. Mac covered his nose and mouth with his hand and examined the room.

"Huh, check this out." Mac bent over the bed leaning close to the wall. Jack grimaced and pulled his black shirt over his nose and stepped to his partner's side. On the wall over the head of the bed were a vent and speaker unit recessed into the wall. Mac shared a worried look with Jack. They stepped out into the hall gagging.

Mac crossed to the other side of the hall and worked on the first door's lock. He cursed almost snapping his red knife in half. Mac shook his head and kicked the door. It might as well have been welded shut. He had better luck on the next one. To their surprise, the door opened easily without a creek. No light came on in the room. Mac clicked on his flashlight and stepped into the room. When he reached the middle of the room, the room exploded with swirling circles of light flashing different colors and a painfully familiar dying animal scream. Mac dropped his flashlight and covered his ears with his hands. He hunched forward his eyes pressed shut.

"Shit!" Jack growled. He grabbed his partner's arm and dragged him into the hall snatching up Mac's torch on the way out. He shut the door, and the noise stopped. Mac leaned against the wall, shaking and covered with sweat. Jack stood beside him watching worried, "I'm guessing we found the place they conditioned your response to that goat scream thing." Jack said. Mac nodded and blinked rubbing his temples.

"I'm ok." He answered Jack's unasked question. He straightened and took the flashlight. He managed a weak grin. 

"Shall we see what's behind door number three." Jack huffed.

"I'd rather not."

"That's the spirit." Jack rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He didn't like this at all. He especially didn't like the effects it had on Mac mentally or physically, but he knew Mac needed answers. The third door opened as quickly as the second. Jack shoved Mac out of the way and went in first. A dim light came on blinking and sizzling about to blow out.

The room held a single treatment chair like a patient would see in a dentist's office except it had tell-tale stir-ups. Mac closed his eyes. **Snap, snap, snap, snap.** It's not the same, he reminded himself, but the agony of flesh whipped off the soles of his feet kept replaying. He jumped when Jack put a hand on his shoulder.

"Mac? You can wait outside…"

"No," Mac choked out. He cleared his throat and tried again, "No, I'm fine."

"Yeah, right." Jack sighed and shook his head mumbling about stubborn, stupid geniuses. Mac smiled and circled the chair. There was nothing else in the room.

"I think this is a birthing room." Mac said softly. He didn't meet Jack's concerned eyes. They both understood the implications immediately. Neither wanted to give voice to the question. Mac turned and strode down the hall to the room at the end of the corridor. Jack followed. He could feel the swirling questions burning through his partner.

The final room was as big as two high school gymnasiums side by side. No lights came on until they passed the threshold of the door. Jack jumped and drew his Baretta in one fluid motion. He stopped the final pull of the trigger only because of years of experience and training.

A painted clown cutout had spun out before them the same second a dim green light flashed on the floor in front of it. Mac took a step back bumping into Jack. Jack closed his eyes shaking his head. It was the image of Dewayn Stratson, the sick serial killer who had stalked Mac's entire life. The man was in his perverted clown costume. Mac closed his eyes. There was a reason he hated clowns, and this was it. Before Jack could say a word, Mac leaned closer frowning. He looked back at Jack.

"It's not him."

"What?" Jack leaned forward, and sure enough, it wasn't, "still creepy as hell."

"No kidding." They walked further into the room, and more clown's flipped or jumped out of them. The clowns were different people, some even women or children but they wore the same sick parody of a clown's costume. Jack's heart was beating hard by the time they were halfway through. Mac turned to him.

"It's Hogan's Alley." Jack nodded.

"They're targets. Somebody was teaching shooting. Why the clowns?" Mac looked at one then looked down at the floor.

"Most kids are universally afraid of clowns." Jack's eyebrows crawled up his forehead.

"You think they were training kids? For what…?" Before Mac could say a word, they could hear wild barking outside. They shared a panicked look and ran back the way they came. They had just cleared the hole in the floor when they listened to the heartthrob of a helicopter. The dogs greeted them with frenzied barking encouraging the two-foots to run faster. Jack opened the Shelby door. The dogs scrambled in the back, Mac hopped into the passenger's seat, and they were squealing out of sight leaving a small dust cloud hanging in the air behind them. Jack paused when they were hidden under a full-leaved oak.

"That's a Phoenix Blackhawk." Mac murmured. Jack swallowed. Both men instinctively ducked as they heard the familiar hiss of a Stinger fired from the underside of the aircraft. There was a second's roar then the house behind them was obliterated.


	2. Chapter 2

Mac stood staring blankly out the grimy window of the fleabag he and Jack staying in overnight. He sipped bitter old coffee but barely noted the foul taste. He turned as Jack entered their room. Jack checked the hall then locked the door putting the extra door brace against the handle. He grinned at Mac and set down a grocery bag.

"I found a nice little bakery that has the best donuts…" Mac offered a wan smile and turned back to the window.

"I'm not hungry." Jack frowned in concern at his partner. Mac had been slowly curling in on himself. Jack wondered if something between them had shifted since Rook Island if Mac didn't trust him as he did before no matter what he said. Jack sighed and pulled out the small bag of donuts. He fished and pulled out two Tracphones and ammo for his Baretta. Mac turned and eyed Jack with a raised eyebrow, "You ok, Jack?" Jack looked up startled.

"What? Why?" The older man hated the defensiveness in his voice. Mac frowned and crossed to the side of his bed closest to Jack. His blue eyes scanned Jack's face.

"Jack, you've been quiet this whole trip. Are you sure you're ok?" Jack chuckled and sat down on his bed across from Mac. He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands. 

"Honestly, bud. I was just thinking the same about you."

"I'm fi…"

"No, you're not. I know that things are different between us, but…"

"What are you talking about?" Jack was surprised at the alarm on Mac's face. Mac stood up and paced running his hand through his hair. He glanced at Jack his face sad, "Have you been thinking that all this time?" Jack looked down. Mac ran to the side of the bed and leaned forward grabbing Jack's hands. Jack looked up and almost cried at the pain in the blue eyes. He looked away.

"Jack, I'm sorry. If I've been treating you like I think any different of you...I...could not do this without you!" A familiar note of fear trickled into Mac's voice. Jack looked up and smiled.

"I ain't going anywhere." Mac leaned back and let out a long sigh of relief. Jack frowned looking at Mac seriously, "But since Sarana fucked with my head...Mac, man you have to talk to me. I'm probably all paranoid, but...you have to trust me!" Jack's voice trembled with his fears slipping out. Mac rubbed his temples and nodded.

"Jack, I trust you, I always have and I always will. That is a rock foundation you can build on, ok?" Jack studied the younger man intently then smiled.

"Fine, prove it. Eat some donuts; they are fricking awesome." Jack held out the bag. Mac glared at it then gave Jack a sly smile.

"You just played me."

"Totally." Mac laughed and pulled out a glazed chocolate donut. He took a couple of bites before setting it down on a napkin. He leaned forward and rubbed head. Jack could see the furrow on the kid's forehead.

"You should take…"

"I did!" Mac snapped. He held up a hand, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean that it's just my head feels like I have an ax chopping it in half."

"I know, kiddo." Jack's voice was tight with worry, "do you think it's because you remember more stuff?" Mac glanced up at him surprised.

"I don't know, maybe. It's hurt worse since the house."

"I'm kinda glad they blew it up," Jack growled biting into a jelly donut and closing his eyes blissed out for a long minute. Mac rolled his eyes then moaned rubbing his forehead.

"I just wish we had answers."

"I know where we can go next to find some," Jack said pulling out the birth certificate he'd kept. Mac stared at him then smiled.

"You know, big guy, sometimes you're a genius!" Jack smiled.

"So I keep telling you." Mac didn't reply as he took the birth certificate and studied it. He huffed out a short breath.

"It doesn't look fake. I assume you talked to Riley?"

"Yeah." Jack opened the Tracphones. They'd been using new ones every day, mostly to pass along misinformation to their enemies. Corydon had more resources than anything the NSA was ever thought to be. Phoenix had to assume any digital signal goes directly to their enemies. So far the plan has been working, no black ops have shown up on their doorstep, yet.

Mac had to get creative. At the abandoned station near the house, the location had been a broken pay phone. They had stolen it, and Mac had added wires so it could be attached to any landline. Corydon could trace it, but not until after they unplugged and relocated. There was no way Cordon could monitor the calls. It was as secure as they were going to get. Thanks to having two of the best hackers in the world-Riley and her friend Jared-the rebel Phoenix could avoid identification on the digital network of cameras or satellites. That was another system that had to be changed every day.

"Matty said this Valencia Phyree-Grace chick has upgraded Phoenix's defenses in a big way." Mac froze, stood up and crossed to the window. He held his forehead in a hand wincing. Jack tossed the phones on the bed and crossed to him, face furrowed with worry, "Mac?"

Mac sighed and squinted at Jack, obviously in pain.

"I have a good idea where those defenses came from." He said softly. Jack's eyes widened.

"You think they made you...but they only had two days." Mac snorted a bitter, angry sound.

"No, they had me for twenty-plus years." Mac's voice was barely a whisper. Jack frowned.

"What are you talking about?" Mac turned and started to pace.

"Think of it? Those invisible ninja suits? I designed them in high school." Mac glared into space, "We have no idea what I've done for them over the years. I don't even know…"

"Know what?" Mac turned frustration and anger fighting for control over his face.

"How many times was I in that house? Were my mother and father in on it? Is my whole life a lie and I've just been some trained rodent…" Mac grabbed the lamp off the dresser and shattered it against the wall. He put both hands on the side of his head and closed his eyes biting down on a scream. Jack blinked in surprise at the fit of rage that came without warning. He stepped to Mac's side and could feel the blond vibrate with anger.

"Hey, hey…" Jack reached out and detangled Mac's hands from his hair. Mac's eyes flooded with despair.

"Who am I, Jack? Who the fuck am I?" Jack put his hands on the kid's shoulders and squared facing Mac.

"Look, you are still you. Maybe these sick fucks have been messing with you for a long time, bud. But even if they did, you can still make your own decisions. They don't own you; they don't control you." Mac sighed.

"Not that we know about." Jack didn't like the despair in Mac's voice. Mac turned away.

"Mac…"

"We should go," Mac said curtly reaching for his go-bag. Jack shook his head wishing he had somebody to punch.

Sonrisa was a three-hour drive away. The two men spent the first hour lost in their own heads. Mac sighed and looked at Jack.

"So what did Riley say?" Jack glanced at Mac startled. He'd completely forgotten their aborted conversation. The last thirty minutes he'd been making a severe punch-the-shit-out-of list.

"Olivet hospital is evidently a small hospital. It doesn't have records online."

"Convenient."

"Isn't it." Mac picked up on the sour note in Jack's voice. Mac smiled a mischievous smile.

"You think it's a trap?" Jack nodded and looked at Mac.

"Look, other than taking over Phoenix these assholes have focused on one thing."

"Me."

"Yeah, now why?"

"So I can build them stuff." Mac growled staring at the thick woods lining the hilly narrow highway.

"Yeah, but that can't be all there is to it." Mac turned to eye Jack.

"What are you thinking?"

"If they wanted you to build stuff, why let you go? I don't mean that 13 crap but as a kid. If you were their puppet, why didn't you stay their puppet?" Jack turned to face Mac as they stopped at a light. Mac frowned pondering Jack's thought. Most people thought Jack wasn't bright. While he'd never get any passing grade in any science or math class, he was a tactical genius, "I think they are testing you, trying to make you do something." Mac stared at the man a long minute puzzled. Jack held up a hand as he drove through the light.

"Think about it. The whole Valhalla thing they wanted to test that poison in that theater, why that theater?"

"Because I was involved?"

"It's the only thing that makes sense. And Sarana made no secret about what she wanted you for." Mac grimaced and automatically crossed his arms again feeling the burn of the six inch long spikes in his flesh, "then they kidnap you on your way home drag you all the way up here, then take you back to North Cali? Why?"

"They wanted us to come back here."

"Exactly. I think the RAPM was another test."

"To see if they could bring me back under their control?" Mac moaned as flares of light snapped across his vision. Jack frowned with worry,

"Then we just happened on the whole Bosnian thing in the pharmacy closest to your house?" Mac looked up startled.

"They would know where we got our prescriptions." Mac muttered he blinked against the fireworks sparkling in his head, "I'd think we're paranoid if I didn't know a creepy clown's been haunting me all these years. Literally." Mac grumbled. They were silent taking in the vastness of the spiderweb surrounding them. Mac grunted. He didn't like the idea of all these people being killed, or worse because of him. Jack looked at him worried.

"It's not your fault, you know? If it weren't you, it'd be someone else, hell for all we know it might be." Mac nodded watching the empty forest slowly turn into the suburb of Sonrisa.

"Six rooms."

"Yeah."

"So our plan?" Mac said. They shared a grin.

"Well, they went through all that trouble to make a trap, I think we

should show our appreciation."

"And get answers."

"Yeah…hopefully, not right away though." Jack rubbed his knuckles his grin turning deadly. Mac sighed feeling a weight lift. No matter how crazy things got, he'd always have Jack, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

Chowder's car shop sat on a twelve-acre junkyard. It was perfect for temporary headquarters of the Phoenix crew. Since Chowder and Sully had taken off for an endless voyage aboard the _Stella Luna_ , Phoenix had been slowly converting the warehouse-sized machine/ body shop into a high tech command center. The TAC teams in street clothes ran the junkyard, and a couple even worked on cars to keep Chowder's running the same as it always had; this kept their activities hidden and provided some working capital. Of course, Riley helped with said capital hacking and redirecting funds from overseas accounts that had been seized by Phoenix over the years.

Matty leaned over a map of the Phoenix building.

"Here they put in a wall of lasers." Riley indicated the ground floor in front of the elevator.

"Mac should be able to get past those easy enough," Bozer said with calm assurance. Riley pulled hair out of her face.

"I hate to say it, but these look like they were designed specifically to keep Mac out." the others shot her a startled look.

"What do you mean?" Matty demanded.

"Look they are on a grid and are strong enough to cube someone."

"Like that one in Resident Evil?" Bozer asked paling. Riley licked her dry lips and nodded.

"Except this one rotates in a random sequence." They were silent a minute pondering this, "and that's not even the worst of it." Matty raised an eyebrow.

"Go on."

"Well, they have fewer people guarding the building, but they have a larger mobile force." Riley trailed off and took a deep breath,"I think they're drones."

"Drones?" Bozer's eyes widened, "with guns and stuff?"

"I don't know, Boze. The only thing I do know is they are fast, mobile and invisible."

"The technology from those ninja suits," Matty growled. Riley nodded, "Any more fun news?"

"Most of the defenses are based on level B7." Bozer frowned on Matty.

"B7? What the hell is on B7?" Matty scowled.

"I don't know. It was classified above my pay grade."

"Something Corydon doesn't want to be found." Riley guessed. Matty nodded and rubbed her forehead.

"Where's Mac and Jack?" Riley looked at the ground. Matty spun on her, "Riley?"

"They're going to Sonrisa."

"They're what?" Matty's voice carried loudly in the large room.

"Matty, Mac has to know who he is," Bozer said. Matty glared at him.

"He can figure that out after Phoenix is ours again, Bozer."

"Matty, this might be the only way we can find out who or what Corydon is," Riley said. Matty rolled her eyes visibly reigning in her irritation. She gentled her voice.

"Look, I know it's important, but I also know Mac has been...broken a lot of times the past two years. He is their primary target if he gets retaken…" Matty trailed off into an ominous silence. Bozer leaned forward poking the table with his index finger.

"Now listen, Matty. Mac has been through some shit that would shatter anyone, and he's come back from it every time stronger than ever. He never broke Matty and he ain't some kinda china we have to polish and put back on the shelf." Matty leaned forward meeting Bozer's gaze with a hostile one of her own.

"Are you suggesting we use Mac as bait?"

"I'm not you." Both women gaped at the hostility in Bozer's voice, "Look all I'm saying is without Mac there is no Phoenix, we all know it. You have to let him find answers in his own way, or he'll leave and do it on his own."

"You think he'd abandon us?" Riley replied angry disbelief in her voice.

"No, but he wouldn't react well to us abandoning him either. Matty, getting Phoenix back is only a piece of this great big puzzle. If we don't dig down and pull up the roots of Corydon we're always going to be waiting for the next attack, the next thing they do to fuck with Mac." Matty stood up and smiled at Bozer.

"You know, Bozer, I'm regretting hiring you less and less." She turned snapping orders to a small group of TAC soldiers in the back of the room cleaning and loading a room full of guns Chowder had gathered over the years. Most of them were from the Vietnam era like their owner, but Chowder had kept them in good working order.

"You four! I need you to get to Sonrisa and keep our boys from getting into too much trouble." The four grinned.

"Yes, Ma'am!" Everyone in Phoenix was hungry for blood. Matty smiled and went to talk to Sally and Doc Carl who had been slowly amassing supplies for medical back up. With Mac's and Jack's history on the best of days, this was a necessary precaution. And these were far from their best days. Bozer frowned at Riley.

"Did she insult me?" Riley laughed and patted Bozer on the arm.

"It comes from a place of love," Riley said smirking.

"You know, you could at least pretend not to agree with her!" Bozer yelled at the woman as she went down to the basement where the computers were. Riley laughed and shot a wave over her shoulder. Bozer's smile faded as he leaned over the schematics of the building.

"Mac, where are you when we need you?" He grumbled.


	3. Chapter 3

There was something creepy about Sonrisa, Oregon. Mac wasn't sure what it was. It looked like any generic small town. A sprawl of middle-income houses, children playing in groups, riding bikes-it was all normal. Maybe too normal? Mac leaned forward and rubbed his forehead. His head had settled to a strobing pain that constantly nagged at him. Perhaps it was his imagination.

"You know, there's something not right about this place?" Mac looked at Jack surprised. The Delta scowled his hand automatically moving closer to his Baretta.

"I feel the same way, but I don't know why" Mac muttered.

"You know how on TV cop shows they have people hanging out in a park vending food, jogging or whatever?" Mac nodded and looked closer at the people. It wasn't every person in the town, but many of the adults turned to watch them pass. Mac leaned over and watched those they moved in the mirror. One woman who was working in her garden dropped her trowel and walked inside taking off her gloves. A man watching them from a swing on the front porch deliberately looked away as they passed. Once they had gone by he scurried inside.

"They're watching us," Mac said. Jack glanced at Mac worried.

"Do you think Corydon could be a whole town?" Mac felt a chill slide up his spine.

"Look at the reach of Valhalla," Mac mumbled.

"This might be a bit more sticky than we thought." Jack mused. He stopped at a light. Many of the cars passing them turned eyeing them with looks that a mortician might have during an autopsy. Jack and Mac exchanged a worried look, "They know we're here." Jack mused.

"Yep. Jack why don't we stop to get some gas." Jack frowned.

"Do you think stopping is a good idea? I was thinking we could keep driving." Mac smiled at a line of children all in the same red uniform who walked in perfect step with each other. They turned all at the same time and eyeballed the pair of men with mean-girl faces as they closed in ranks around a bullied student.

"Jack, we have to take precautions. I don't think they'll move until we are at the hospital. We have to contact Matty before that happens." Jack rolled his eyes and huffed. He pulled in to a gas station/car repair shop. Two old men wearing obnoxious golf clothes sat on a bench outside a large window. They held newspapers and were talking with animation until the Shelby pulled up to the pump.

"Now what, kemosabe?"

"Drop me off."

"What? Hell no!"

"Jack, we don't have a lot of options here. Drop me off go call Matty, come back in ten minutes." Jack gritted his teeth and hit the steering wheel. He shook his head. "Mac…"

"Jack! Trust me, ten minutes...oh and I need your spare tire." Mac smiled as he stepped out of the car. Jack turned off the Shelby muttering under his breath. Splitting up is a horrible idea and isn't going to end well. Jack could feel it.

Jack found a narrow alley behind a strip mall that had no cameras only dumpsters lining the brick walls and loading docks with short cement staircases. Jack drove until he found what he was looking for, a telephone junction box. He carried his Baretta along his leg and pulled the portable phone booth phone, which he christened the MacPhone, out of his trunk. He grunted at its heft. This gizmo was a far cry from his I phone. He cut the wires and clipped the MacPhone to the open cables. Jack was proud that he knew how to do this so well. He turned the can opener handle on the bottom of the phone and clicked the cradle until he heard a dial tone.

"This better be good." Matty's voice crackled with static. Jack's eyes roamed the alley. So far he was alone.

"You don't like hearing from me twice in one day?" Jack drawled.

"Funny, Dalton. What's going on? How's Mac?" Jack sighed unable to hide his worry.

"I think we stumbled onto something." Jack paused then told Matty everything. There was a long moment of empty buzzing on the line.

"You need to get out of there, Jack."

"I know that Matty." Jack groused.

"I have Beta Team Blue coming to you. They should be there in the morning."

"Ok, well I'm gonna go get Mac if you don't hear from us send the rescue party to Olivet Hospital."

"Alright, Jack…" Jack looked up as a thick black mushroom of ash and fire exploded into the sky over the gas station.

"Uh...Matty, good talk, gotta go...just got the bat signal." Jack said absently. Jack cut off Matty's voice as he yanked the MacPhone free and jumped back into the Shelby. Jack shoved the MacPhone in the back seat and sped down the alley. He was halfway to the exit when a screeching black van blocked the mouth of the lane. Jack slammed the Shelby in reverse only to have the alley behind him blocked. Jack cursed grabbed all the ammo he had and bailed.

Jack jumped up the nearest stairs and ducked into the back door of a toy store. Jack found himself in a small rear room lined with boxes on shelves covering three walls. The last wall had a small bathroom and office. Jack ducked into the bathroom and locked the door. Seconds later he heard the telltale stamp of boots on the tile.

"He came through here, go look up front." Jack looked around him. Wood paneling, toilet, sink and not much else. His heart lurched as a fist hammered on the door.

"What...I'm on break, man. Those tacos last night…" Jack slurred his Texas drawl as much as possible. He pursed his lips and made the loudest fart noise he could manage then grunted loudly, "Whew, my eyes are burning…" Jack shouted. Jack let out a breath as he heard the boots retreat. He looked up and frowned. The ceiling had stained and broken fiberglass tiles. Jack climbed on the toilet and slid the least shredded aside. The ductwork didn't look super stable, but beggars can't be choosers. Jack hopped down and listened at the door. He couldn't hear any goons near the entrance. As quietly as he could, he unlocked the door leaving it closed.

Jack climbed onto the back of the toilet and grimaced at the porcelain rattle his jump made. He stretched and managed to grab a more substantial red water main pipe and pulled himself up to balance on top of it. He crouched and kicked the tile back into place. Jack found himself in a maze of vents, pipes, and electronics. He fought back a sneeze. What little light there was came in through vent covers and broken ceiling tiles. The dust and cobwebs were thick enough to cut. Jack wrapped his legs around the pipe and inch-wormed deeper into the building. Jack did not like how much the pipeline shook with each movement.

Jack froze as he heard voices raised back the way he came. He frowned. Ahead of him was a complicated junction of grey square vents. Jack grimaced as he cut his hand pulling himself onto the top of the vent and laid flat. A blade of light sliced across the wooden roof above him as a dark-haired soldier lifted the ceiling tile and poked his head up like a gopher. Jack scowled at the barrel of an M5 that moved with precision alongside the thick blue beam of a flashlight. He turned his head away and held his breath.

"Anything?" A voice called from below. The soldier took his time turning a full 360 degrees. Jack's heart banged like a hair band's drum. It took all of his self-control not to flinch as the light ran along the roof above him. It felt like a year. Jack closed his eyes fighting a sneeze.

"Nah, do you think it was Dalton? The boss said he was off in the woods and the subject no longer had contact with him."  
"It doesn't matter." Jack heard a crackle of static on the radio," Ok, let's wrap this up; they have the subject." Jack forced himself to keep breathing.

"What about…" The voices trailed off as they replaced the ceiling tile and walked away. Jack shook his head. They had Mac, dammit. He knew it was a bad idea...Jack paused and groaned. Of course, it was, Mac was planning on getting caught. It was his great idea to get into the hospital.

"Dammit, stupid kid!" Jack hissed. He wiped the dust off his face and frowned. He knew they would have surveillance on the Shelby. Jack crept forward and peered down through a vent. He sucked in a breath and jumped back covering his mouth and biting his lip to keep back a startled scream-a room full of Clowns. He braced himself and looked back. Bile bubbled in the back of his throat. He'd never had a fear of clowns until he was forced to cage fight an army of them. Jack froze then relaxed. The costumes were all on mannequins. It didn't help the creepy factor, but Jack didn't find a threat. He elbowed himself along the top of the duct. The next vent looked down at a lady's changing room. It was currently empty. Jack crept down and balanced on a heavy drain pipe. It wobbled under his boots. Jack bent to push aside a ceiling tile. The pipe shook under his feet. He heard a twang and suddenly was falling through the tiles over the changing room. Jack relaxed his body and tucked his head in, but still landed with bruising force.

Jack gasped trying to get his body to move, but his body refused. He heard the clomp of boots. The door to the booth opened. Jack had nowhere to go.

"Dammit." He panted.


	4. Chapter 4

Mac glanced at the gas station as he bent to lift the spare out of Jack's Shelby. The two old men in the garish golf clothes leaned their heads together an muttered in low tones while staring at him. Jack's original tire had met with an unfortunate accident in Tijuana. He was unable to buy a perfect replacement, so he bought a small donut spare. Perfect. Mac thought with a smile.

"I hate this." Jack hissed in his ear. Mac jumped and glared at him.

"Trust me, ten minutes."

"Why?"

"Jack! Trust me, alright?" Jack studied Mac.

"Fine but I hate this."

"Noted." Jack huffed, whirled and stomped into the car. Mac had enough time to pull out the tire and slam down the trunk lid before Jack squealed out of the lot. Mac waved at the rubber smoke and carried the spare to the store part of the repair shop. He nodded at the two old men. They stared at him without saying a word. Mac cleared his throat and stepped into the store. Behind an open counter fronted by rows of colorful candy, a small round woman with pointy half glasses watched him talking on the phone. Mac quickly made out the outline of a pistol under he uniform smock. Mac nodded and smiled at her. She deliberately hung up the phone, crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. Mac turned away. He guessed five minutes before the enforcers showed up. He grabbed four cans of aerosol hair spray, a bottle of nail polish remover, and a Snickers. The woman stared at him a long time before she slowly rang up his order.

He crossed to the bathroom and locked the door. He took the finger knob off the hairspray can and pulled the metal center of the spare tire's valve out. He connected the hairspray can and soon heard the tire filling with hairspray. Mac coughed and flipped his bangs out of his eyes. He quickly put the other two cans of hairspray into the spare until it bulged. Mac leaned it over the small sink with the valve facing down. Mac doused the sink with the entire bottle of nail polish remover. He blinked his eyes and shook his head to clear it. Mac grabbed a wad of paper towels and shoved them as far down the sink drain as he could. Mac lit a match and tossed it into the sink. A blue flame circled the drain and began heating the tire. Mac stepped out and ducked into the back of the store ducking his head into a beer refrigerator.

He was off by three minutes, but a group of three windowless black vans squealed to the front of the store. Seven identical looking guys in government black suits split up, three stopping to talk to the old men outside, the rest running in to see the cashier. The woman turned and pointed to the bathroom. Mac slipped through the door that connected the convenience store to the mechanic shop. He ducked to the side of the door taking in the room. Two cars filled the bay, both upon high lifts. One guy had on earphones and was working on a bench in front of the vehicles. Another older guy was yelling on the phone. Sticking to the shadows Mac silently made his way to a small side door. The door led to a little overgrown grassy area that ended in a rusty fence lined with rusting car parts. Mac shoved an engine block against the back door and dashed along the building away from the way he came.

He whirled around the corner into something hard and metal. Mac dropped to the ground dizzy, his face screaming in pain. He could feel the blood run out his nose and mouth but didn't think he'd broken any bones. One of the old guys grinned at his ten iron and slung it over his shoulder. Mac had time to blink before the other old man slammed his three wood into his side three times. Mac curved into the pain struggling to breathe. Mac saw the other man line his ten iron to Mac's crotch bringing it back and forth as if sizing up the shot. Mac rolled backward desperately, earning a bruising two hits over his right kidney. Mac gasped and tried to stand. Ten iron leaned back to swing at Mac's head. Mac dropped to the ground covering his head in time for the world to explode.

Even expecting the explosion, Mac's breath was sucked away by the backdraft. The two old men spun to the ground as a tall black cloud exploded from the back of the building. Mac bounced to his feet and leaped over the men scooping up the three wood as he passed. He dove around the front of the building then slid back a step flattening against the side as two government goons ran from the vans toward him. He held up the golf club and closed his eyes listening. Sirens called from far away. Mac grimaced. No leonine roar of the Shelby.

"Dammit, Jack." Mac peeped around the corner. Only one man dressed more like a soldier stood beside the vans. Mac smiled an idea coming to him. He ran around to the other side of the truck coming up behind the soldier. He slugged the guy with the golf club dropping him with one stroke. Mac grunted dragging him to the far side of the van. Mac found the guy's keys and yanked him into the truck through the driver's side door. Mac ducked and locked the doors from the inside. Fire engines pulled up, and soon the entire parking lot was chaos.

Mac paused shaking away dizziness as he bent and he stripped and stole the soldier's black pants and uniform shirt. He scowled at a pistol, a Glock, and slid it into his belt for Jack. Mac took a second to take in the contents of the van. It was a surveillance unit used for kidnapping and vanishing foreign agents. Mac blinked taking in the sheer number of screens and cameras Sonrisa had, and this van probably couldn't monitor a fraction of them. Mac found a pair of shackles and scowled. If he'd ended up in these, he wouldn't have been able to pick his way out of them. Mac suspected most of the kidnap gear was designed to be MacGyver-proof. It was not a comforting thought. He shackled the man to the base of a chair bolted to the floor and snatched up the handheld radio.

He'd just sat in the driver's seat when the radio crackled to life.

"No sign of Rabbit, but companion suspected to be in Vista strip mall, all units assist." Mac frowned. Rabbit? He shoved the questions aside and revved the van into motion. He followed another three vehicles to the back of a strip mall. Mac drove past the alley as two other trucks cut off either end.

The Shelby, parked in the center of the alley, was empty. Mac didn't see any sign of Jack or where he may have gone. He pulled to the front of the building and stepped in the back of the van shoving himself into the rest of the man's uniform. Mac pocketed the keys and frowned as another van pulled up behind him. Mac thought furiously then smiled.

"All units, Rabbit is apprehended. Repeat Rabbit is apprehended." He said in the deepest voice he could manage.

"What's your location?" Mac thought about their drive in and remembered passing a Wal-mart. He gave the address as much as he could remember and leaned the radio close to the monitoring station. Mac smiled as the receiver let out an ear-splitting squall. Mac gagged his prisoner, climbed out the driver's door and casually walked up to the three men climbing out. They eyed his face.

"You got caught in that explosion?" The youngest, a tan kid with black scruff on his chin. Mac grimaced fighting the urge to lean over his ribs.

"Yeah, then I got the call to come over here," Mac growled using clipped, precise tones.

"Fucking Rabbit, man, the shit I heard he could do…"

"It's all bullshit." A burly bald guy said in a gravelly rumble.

"My radio is messed up from the monitor feedback," Mac said, "Did they say they got Rabbit?"

"Hell, yeah!" The three men celebrated. Mac managed a grin and threw a thumb over his shoulder.

"They said his friend was stuck in there?" The oldest man waved a hand.

"He doesn't matter. Rabbit was the gold prize, man. I can't believe he came back after all these years…"  
"He ain't all that smart." The third man laughed.

"Let's help round him up; then it is time for a beer!"

"Hell, yeah!" The three men returned to their van. Mac waved at them and headed back to his vehicle slowly. After they had passed him, he retraced his steps and entered the closest store. Mac raised his eyebrows. It was a toy store that would never get a CPSC safety rating. He forced his face to remain neutral as he passed military uniforms including loops for knives, belts, mace, and pouches for other tools.

Row after row of weapons lined the shelves. The smaller ones were foam. The higher the size and lethality were the more deadly the materials and designs became- plastic, wood then full-sized metal. Everything from billy clubs and saps to maces and swords were neatly hung under signs declaring them for ages 2 to 14. Mac cleared his throat. A glass counter holding small pistols separated the showroom from a back area that had three doors off the back wall. An older stooped lady holding onto a thick wooden cane wheezed as she walked up to him. Her eyes were rheumy and didn't focus on him.

"Yes, sir?" The woman asked. Her voice was surprisingly sultry.

"Have you seen anyone…"

"Oh, you're on the chase for Rabbit?" The woman's eyes gleamed with excitement. Mac didn't answer, "Please, officer look where ever you need to." Mac nodded and stepped into the first room. His heart exploded, and he had to cover his mouth and slam his eyes closed as he found himself surrounded by hundreds of clowns. Mac felt his stomach roll, and his head felt like it was cracking. Mac saw a door behind the clown room and inched toward it forcing himself to breathe and not skid away from the blank mannequin stares with overpainted lips and bulbous nose.

Finally, he stepped into a red-carpeted hallway. Mac slid to the side and leaned over. His body shook, and sweat poured down his back and chest. His mouth was dry, and he forced himself to breathe slowly. There wasn't much he could do for the fleeing child's step of his heart. Mac looked up and smiled. He could hear the rattle of metal and slight thump in the ducts above his head. Mac followed the sound. If he was right and that was Jack, his partner would come out in a clothing boutique next door. Mac straightened and wiped sweat from his face. He squared his shoulders and strode out the back door. Mac found himself on a narrow cement loading dock overlooking the parked Shelby. Mac swallowed grimacing as a tow truck slowly left taking Jack's baby with it.

"Jack is going to kill me," Mac muttered. A triangle of three government suits half turned and nodded at him. He nodded back and turned away. He walked down the dock to the back door to the clothing store. Mac found himself in a room lined with clothes hanging on racks. Mac shook his head. All the shirts, skirts, pants, and accessories were identical except for color. Replaying in his head the townies he'd seen he realized they all wore some variation of these clothes. Mac even saw the ugly golf clothes of the two old men who attacked him. This place was bizarre. Mac's head snapped up as he heard a muffled yell followed by a thud. He ran following it. No one else seemed to be in the store. Mac smiled as he entered the ladies dressing room.

Sprawled on the floor his legs dangling against the wall over his head was plaster, dust and spiderweb coated Jack Dalton. Jack gaped at Mac for a long minute before he grinned and swatted broken ceiling tiles off his body. Mac helped the older man to his feet. Jack leaned forward and shook the dust off his short hair. Mac fell back a step and closed his eyes as a disco ball of lasers burned through his skull. _Nobody knows the rabbit's nose, the way it twitches, the way it goes…_ Mac moaned and put a shaking hand on his temple. He was dimly aware of Jack at his side. Mac shook his head and blinked through the fireworks across his vision.

"W...e, we have to go...van out front." Mac managed finally standing straight. Before Jack could open his mouth, Mac grabbed his shoulder and pulled him with him as he crossed the empty clothing store. Mac swayed as he stepped down the curb. Jack steadied him. Mac could see the older man's mouth move, but all Mac could hear was his heart beating a tempo and children singing in time, _Nobody knows the rabbit's ears, the way it listens, the way it hears._ _ *****_

Jack pushed Mac up against the van and fished the keys out of the blonde's pocket. Mac closed his eyes as everything spun wildly and a lightning storm flamed through all of all his nerves. His knees wobbled weakly. Mac could feel himself folding toward the ground when Jack grabbed him by the arms and hauled him into the van's passenger side. Mac leaned forward holding his head in both hands. Jack did up his seat belt, crossed to the driver's side and in seconds had them merged into traffic.

 ***** _ **Rabbits**_ **by Sharon W. posted on Family-Friend poems website**


	5. Chapter 5

_What is your name?_ The voice was familiar, scary. _Angus..._ Pain…

"Mac!" The rollicking storm in his head was easing, "Mac, dammit…" Mac looked over at Jack and managed a half smile. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Jack sat back letting out a deep breath his eyes raking Mac's body looking for wounds. Mac grimaced as he sat up straight. His side hurt like hell. He didn't think anything was broken. Jack noticed and leaned forward brushing at Mac's hair. Mac jumped back surprised.

"What the hell…" Mac gasped as Jack's fingers found a tender lump. Mac winced. Jack sat back his head cocked to the side.

"That was a bad one, concussion or memory?" Mac took a deep breath. Jack had parked in the back corner of the Wal-Mart store. People passing made a show of ignoring them.

"Memory, or part of one." Mac frowned. He turned to look at their

Prisoner. He was awake and squirming against the manacles. Mac looked at Jack, "We should question him." Jack scowled and turned to drive. 

"We need to find a quieter place," Jack growled shooting Mac a glance that promised they were not done talking about what Mac's brain had kicked out this time. Mac sighed. Honestly, he didn't have any more answers just a few more questions. He focused on what he could do.

"Let me check the back. There are cameras everywhere." Mac climbed into the back. He ignored the glare of the man in his T-shirt and boxers and sat at the center monitor. In seconds, he was scrolling through the entire town. Mac frowned. The city had a surface, fake feeling to it. Something wriggled in the back of his memory.

"Ok, I got a long dirt road that leads to a camping area." Jack put the van into gear. Mac directed him. As they drove around the outskirts of town Mac frowned and pinched his lip in thought. All of the people carried out their tasks like any other town, but there was something fake about them. They continually looked up as if they were going to be graded or caught doing something wrong. As the black van passed by pedestrians or others in cars, they made a show of looking away or down.

"Black Mariah," Mac said aloud as he leaned back.

"Mariah? Like Mariah Carey?" Mac rolled his eyes.

"No, Black Mariah. In the old days when cops arrested someone they'd pull up in a black Mariah and drag them off before anyone knew."

"For a little vigilante justice on the side?" Jack grinned at Mac through the rearview mirror. 

"Something like that. These people are looking at the same way. You know it's like some of the stories Gramps told me about the Cold War...Vinnytsia! That's what this is Vinnytsia!" Mac stood up and crawled back to the front seat. He sat side saddle facing Jack. Jack glanced over at him frowning.

"Sounds like a Russian town."

"It is, or it was... sort of... It makes sense...well ok, not sense but it explains a lot, but who? Why?" Mac trailed off as the van lurched onto a long single lane dirt road and bumped its way to a small field with brown grass surrounded by unkempt woods. An old swing set sat rusting in an overgrown playground in the center of the park. Thick knots of weeds burst through cracks scattered throughout the cemented sidewalks. Jack turned off the van and turned his full attention to Mac. Mac took a breath slowing his thoughts down to Jack-speed.

"Vinnytsia?" Jack prompted.

"Back in the peak of the Cold War, the '50s and '60s the Soviet Union built replica American towns where they placed agents to live so they would learn how to pass as Americans as spies. Vinnytsia was one." 

"You think Sonrisa was one of those?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if the United States had similar towns for the same thing somewhere, but it wouldn't be in the continental US. I think Corydon set up this town to train people…"

"For what?" Jack straightened his hand automatically straying to his Baretta.

"I don't know...Matty said her contact had said Valhalla had been a toe of Corydon. What if Sonrisa was another project like Valhalla?"

"Building weapons?"

"No, think about it. The main objective of Valhalla was to take over key positions in the government, police, and military. Hugh and…" Mac swallowed looking away; his hand automatically rubbed his shoulder where the first of Sarana's six-inch thorns pierced his flesh, drawing the first screams of many. Mac shook his head banishing the ghostly cold memory. He met Jack's eyes to see the older man's memory had spun back to Sierre Leone too. Mac cleared his throat, "They splintered and wanted to take control of the government, rule it."

"And you think Corydon wants to do that too? Why train normal people? And what were they be training for? Shopping at Wal-mart?" Mac huffed. As usual, Jack had a gift for putting his finger on the bleeding pulse of Mac's spitballing.

"I don't know."

"I know how to find out," Jack said with a grin. Mac smiled back his eyes meeting the defiant eyes of their squirming prisoner. Jack got out and opened the back doors. He looked at the shelving on both sides of the van and pulled out a cattle prod. He hit a button and smiled as it crackled to life. Mac closed his eyes and turned away. He could feel burning and spasming...Mac opened the passenger's door and almost fell out of the van. He dropped to all fours heaving. He closed his eyes feeling a cold shaking rattle through him. _**We know you better than you do yourself**_ _...burning, singed flesh...blood...can't breathe..._ _ **snap, snap, snap...No matter where or when you will always be ours…**_ Mac groaned as his bruised side was again shaken by his wretching. Sweat beads dripped on the ground. He closed his eyes everything swirling.

Strong hands grabbed Mac's upper arms and sat him against the van's front tire. Mac slowly took deep breaths. After a few long minutes, his heart started to slow to a jog, and he could hear Jack's worried voice over it.

"That's it...ok, deep breath…" Mac blinked and focused on his partner. He managed a watery smile and clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder. He couldn't form words quite yet. Jack nodded and rubbed a hand over his face, "I'm sorry Kiddo, I wasn't thinking…" Mac shook his head and swallowed his dry throat.

"It...it's fine...I'm ok…" Jack looked at him skeptically. Mac sat up and took a couple more deep breaths, "I think I'll take a walk out here while you…"

"Question our new friend?" Jack's smile took a familiar cold edge that made Mac's stomach flip-flop. Mac nodded. Jack stood up and helped Mac to his feet. His dark eyes studied Mac closely. Jack nodded, "Ok, bud, but you do not...you hear me? DO NOT wonder out of sight, got it?"

"Can I play on the swings? Can I, pleeeeaaaseee?" Mac smirked. Jack shoved him a step back but smiled.

"Smart ass." Mac laughed as he turned and walked away from the van. He could feel Jack watching him. He let out a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. His constant migraine had calmed to bearable. Without really planning it, Mac found himself ambling toward the rusted swing set. He paused looking at it. Sparklers flew across his vision, then it clicked. Mac sucked in a breath looking at the area around him. He stepped back then to the left. It was the same angle as the video. He was walking in the same park in the video the murderous psychopath Dewayne Stratson had sent him. Mac frowned walking toward the edge of the slide that had fallen over onto its side a long time ago. The trees were a sickly burnt orange as if some chemical had killed all of them. In his mind's eye, he could still see the video play, the close up of his happy mother holding him while in the background hidden in the lush foliage the clown that haunted him his entire life stood watching. Mac turned around rubbing his temples and forcing the memories of a dying goat 's scream away. Sweat poured down his neck, chest and back. His skull felt like a battlefield. Mac's stomach churned. He forced his eyes to the sky.

Grey stringy clouds floated over head like a hermit's beard in water. Mac swallowed blinking. He closed his eyes taking in the burnt hay smell and crunch of birds rustling through the dead park yanking up worms that hung like fleshy rubber bands. Mac's heart rate returned to normal, and he consciously forced his body to unclench. Mac rolled his neck and shrugged his shoulders. The battle calmed to a soft argument and the flashes vanished. He took a deep breath and let it go. Mac refused to ever let anyone control him again. He smiled once he was back in the driver's seat of his brain, body, and emotions. He continued strolling along the cement pathway.

As Mac walked through the overgrown weeds, the broken cement they crept around became scattered puzzle pieces. Mac mentally meandered through the puzzle that haunted him. He and his mother had been here when he was a baby; someone had taken that video. It could not have been Dewayne Stratson as he made a cameo in the video. Mac wondered if his father had filmed it. If he did how did that video end up on his phone? It used the same encoding as the MacGyver murder site. Why would his dad have anything to do with that? Mac took a deep breath and slowly released it. He felt his core tremble with panic. Could his dad be Corydon? Tears pricked his eyes. Mac had always had a Dad-sized hole at his center. He felt the familiar cramp of abandonment tighten around his heart. What if the man had left him knowing a pedophile serial killer watched his every move? What if Mac was only a broken tool? Mac angrily swatted at the inevitable tears. Mac froze and stared at the empty woods. A single crow screeched from a broken light pole.

In the video, his mother had been happy. Mac felt a lump form in his throat as he pictured his mom showing him to the camera pride and love sparkling in her eyes, a content happy smile on her lips. Mac had very few memories of his mother, and almost none of her without pain as her body wasted away piece by piece.

Mac cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes. She had tried. She always spent time with him and made him the center of a sunny world of safety every time they were together. Mac licked his lips and kicked at a clump of fluffy white dandelions. He watched the seeds fly like helicopters on the wind. Then she'd died. Mac again felt the childhood scream rattle his stomach, his feet wanting to run from the pain. He took a shaky breath. What did she have to do with this mess? Was she even his mother? The thought tore through Mac slicing him in half. Mac closed his eyes and reminded himself to keep breathing. Everything he knew...the foundation of who he was...Mac wanted to sob, scream, murder. Mac put his hands in his leather jacket and kept walking. It couldn't be true. No matter what he thought about his father, he'd seen the light and love on his mother's face when she looked at him, the pride when holding him. Mac set that as a foundation for him to build on-his mother loved him. Mac glanced over at the black van and smiled. His mother and Jack were the only stable things he could cling to now. Looking back, Mac could see where her misery and pain had peeped out. He had been too young to know it, and she'd been too good at hiding it. Mac shook his head focusing.

If his parents had been part of this Corydon, they had escaped and given him a healthy life, well as much as they could. Then his mom died and his dad...well someone had a copy of the video. It had been such an intimate moment. Mac sighed. That brought him back to his original question, was his dad Corydon?

Mac turned in a circle and studied the area. There was no sign there had ever been cameras or more than the one lamp on the edge of the woods. The video was VHS shot from over someone's shoulder. Mac thought about the holes in the house, the happy look on his mother's face, the traveling he and his father had done...What if his Dad rescued him from Corydon? Maybe his dad was on the run. Had the three of them escaped so they could be a regular family? A nuclear bomb exploded in Mac's head.

 _Cold. Metal chair, manacles, movies...noises...colors...loud, so loud...where is Mommy?_ _ **What is your name?**_ _Angus...buzz, blue...pain, chest burning...screams, his...Mommy? Why is mommy screaming? Hurt, tired..._ _ **What is your name?**_ _No, don't say it...it's the secret between him and mommy...I don't know! Buzz, blue, screaming, cramping, burning...His heart's stopped...floating...body shaking, thump...got him back...take him to medical…_

Mac moaned and forced his eyes open. Cattle prod, they had used a cattle prod...Mac raised a hand to his head. He felt like a cattle prod was breaking through his skull from the inside. Blue flashes crossed his vision. He took deep breaths focusing on physical sensations. He sprawled on cement, his face in an earthy lump of grass and weeds. Mac rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm to keep the late afternoon sun from crashing into his sore brain any harder. He swore he could feel the rotation of the earth. The crow's whole murder began to serenade him, each caw a note of pain rippling across his mushy brain.

Mac gave in to his body's need to relax. He breathed deeply trying his best not to think. All his muscles felt like fat noddles. He could feel sleep seeping in…

"MAC! There you are!" Mac heard Jack's boots slap concrete as he skidded to Mac's side. Mac sighed. It'd take too much to move. Go away, Jack. Jack's hands reached out and turned Mac's clammy face towards him. Mac swallowed. No, I'm not going to wake up, go away. Let me sleep for a century at least.

"You are sending my heart into the raging stratosphere, brother," Jack said. There was amusement in his voice. Mac cracked his eyes open. Jack grinned down at him. Mac realized he might have said his thoughts out loud. Fuck.

"Help me up," Mac mumbled forcing his face to work. His eyes kept crossing. Jacked sat Mac upright and put a hand on his shoulder preventing him from flopping back. Mac groaned and clutched his head letting loose with a string of cursing that had Jack whistling in admiration. Mac glared at him and slowly moved to his feet. Jack stood with him steadying the blonde. Mac put an arm around Jack's shoulders and let him lead him back to the van.

"So wanna tell me what that was all about?" Mac smiled at Jack's unusual level of restraint.

"This is the park." Mac mumbled.

"The….the one in the video with your Mom?" Mac winced as a spike of fire stabbed his temple. He rubbed it hissing as he came across the lump he'd gotten by the ten iron, "Is that what…?"

"I remembered more."

"From here?"

"No, from that house...or whatever. They were trying to get me to tell them my name, but every time I tried to say, Angus…" Mac hissed his head dipping as he rubbed his chest. He hated cattle prods.

"Are you ok, kiddo?" Mac managed a weak smile.

"Not remotely." He rubbed his eyes and fought a yawn. "They were fans of cattle prods." He murmured. He could feel Jack's angry growl more than hear it.

"How old were you?"

"Don't know. Was sitting in that chair…" Mac's voice trailed away, and he stumbled exhaustion weighing him down. He thought that a memory breaking through the wall in his head must be what a seizure felt like. Mac was exhausted. It had been another impossible day in a long string of impossible days. Mac figured he had earned the right to feel like crap. He was dimly aware of reaching the side of the van before everything was sucked away by a black tornado.

Jack easily caught his partner. He grunted lifting the kid the last five feet to the open back of the van. Jack laid Mac across the end, then hopped into the truck and arranged the kid longwise so he could stretch Mac out. Jack frowned; digging through the shelves, he found a small pillow and blanket. Jack bundled Mac up and took a second to study his partner.

Mac was doing so much better than he had been over the past two years, but he was too pale, his face permanently lined with worry and pain worn into creases that hadn't been there before all this. Jack scowled. The bruises he'd left on Mac's face still hadn't disappeared, and now there was a growing purple island growing around the lump on his noggin the old golfers had left. Jack wanted to go home. He wanted to hang with Mac, Riley, Bozer, and Matty over the fire sipping beer or back to Phoenix getting a mission to take out a group of terrorists. Pretty sad when fighting a group of terrorists sounded like a fun day.

Jack wanted to turn back the clock and go home. Only there was no home. Phoenix had fallen. He was not a complete stranger to government plots and black ops, but this...this was like fighting a hundred-headed hydra in sticky quicksand. Jack rubbed his face. He took a breath trying to force away the black tide threatening to suck him under like a stormy wave on the arctic sea.

He closed his eyes. This isn't me. He told himself. Ever since Sarana got into his head...ever since he'd hurt Mac...Jack closed his eyes remembering the cave, Rook Island. He shook his head. This wool-gathering wasn't helping anyone. He had to figure out a way of getting back to their hotel under cover of darkness. Fidget and Elmer must be going nuts. Jack smiled, and he still had one other thing to do before they went back.

Jack stepped out of the van shutting the back doors. He walked around to the man huddled on the ground. Jack picked up the cattle prod and knelt beside the drooling soldier. The man's eyes were wide as he looked up at Jack in terror. Perfect, just the way Jack liked them.

"Ok, now buddy. You gonna talk to me, or do I need to see how long the batteries in this thing last?"

"T...talk, please." Jack nodded. He bent grabbed the front of the

Man's undershirt and leaned him up against the black truck. The man moaned. Jack gave him a second to catch his breath. He watched as the man's eyes trawled their environment. He was cowed, but not beaten-yet. Jack made sure he stayed out of striking range. Not that the man could do much damage with all of his limbs manacled. Jack could so he always assumed his opponent was at least as good as him. He'd been proven right only a couple of times.

"What's your name?" Jack's voice snapped like the whip. The man flinched. It's always a good idea to remind a prisoner who had the cattle prod.

"Ed...Edgar Winters."

"Ok, Ed, talk to me." Jack added a growl to his voice and narrowed his eyes. Ed focused on him his prominent Adam's apple bobbing like a fish lure.

"Wh...what do you want...to...to know?" Jack leaned down and tapped the end of the cattle prod in the cement closer to the prisoner. As he expected, he had Ed's complete attention, "A..anything! I'll tell you anything!" Jack moved the cattle prod back to his side and let Ed suck in some air. Never a good thing to have your prisoner pass out before getting any intel. Jack stood up and stared at Ed as he deliberately paced. Ed shied away, his shoulders slumping, his back hunching. His pupils were huge. Jack stopped and waited to force the man to look up at him.

"Who are you? What's up with the black vans?" The man almost deflated with relief. Jack smacked the cement with the prod. The man let out a shriek and bent his knees wanting to get up and run away. Jack let a chill seep into his smile.

"Wh..we..we are the Deliverymen. If someone forgets...their place...we deliver them to central...to be p...processed again." Jack frowned and studied Ed a long minute composing his face in an irritated mask. Ed's voice broke into a breathless babble as he tried to please his captor, "The hospital in the center of town, that's center...they all come from there…"  
"Who?"

"T...the recruits for the town." Ed's voice became surly. That won't do. Jack slapped the cattle prod down on Ed's leg with the speed of a viper. Ed yelped. Jack held it buzzing there a long minute making his point. He turned it off and slowly pivoted. Ed was pale, sweaty and shaking as he huffed in gasps of air. Jack sighed and rolled his neck walking away maintaining the posture of boredom. He waited until the guy's breathing was regular again then turned. He shot Winters a grim predatorial smile.

"Now, Ed. Tell me about Rabbit." The man's demeanor changed. His eyes flashed with automatic rage, and his whole body tightened as if he were ready to fight to the death. Interesting. Jack kicked the bottom of Ed's foot. The man's posture loosened a notch. Jack frowned. Learned response. Ed had been programmed to hate Rabbit. Jack frowned looking back at the van. He had a pretty good idea who Rabbit was, "Well? You know I'm getting hungry, do you want to be out here by yourself waiting for...bears? Cougars? I'm not sure what they even have in this place. I'd put my money on a bear. A grizzly? You know the more we encroach on their territory the more pissed off and hungry they get? You...I think you'd be a nice chicken nugget for a mama bear's babies." Jack crouched down again and let the full range of his anger show. Programmed or not, Ed shrank away.

"Rabbit...was one of the first...he...he escaped. Corydon wants him back no matter what."

"What's Corydon?" Ed laughed and looked at Jack as if he'd asked what the sky was. 

"Seriously?" Jack growled and zapped the guy again. He kept it short. He was starting to lose his patience for real.

"Assume I know nothing." The whites of Ed's eyes wobbled as he shook.

"Corydon...is the...the North American part of the Council...it..it controls everything. It…" A red flower blossomed in the man's forehead followed by a splash of brain and blood.

"Shit!" Jack yelled. He was already on the other side of the van when the thunder of the bullet echoed through the darkening sky. Jack stomped the gas and fought to keep the wheel steady as the rear of the truck fishtailed across the roughly broken cement. A crack appeared in the windshield spreading from a hole an inch across. Jack glanced over his shoulder. He could see daylight from the bullet path that crossed completely through the windowless door.

"Shit!" Jack swore. Armor piercing, colossal round. Jack guessed the sniper was using something similar to an M24 weapon system with long action rounds. He thought about the time it took for the sound to catch up to the supersonic bullet. Jack grimaced. Mac could tell him exactly how far but he guessed over a mile. There weren't many snipers in the world who could make a shot like that while using heavier armor piercing rounds. Jack felt bile creep up from his stomach. There wasn't any way he could have made that shot. Jack didn't stop at the end of the dirt driveway but plunged into traffic ignoring the screeches of tires and shouts of angry drivers. Jack worked the wheel until he was through the snarl of traffic he'd caused then he stomped on the gas and sped away from Sonrisa as fast as a bat out of hell. It wasn't until the town was a blob behind him that Jack allowed his death grip on the steering wheel to relax.

His heart stammered, and he felt his skin crawl sure he was in someone's sights, and they were waiting silent and unmoving as a spider. Jack shook his head. He glanced back at Mac who slept soundly and took a deep breath. He seriously thought about giving it all up, bundling up the kid and running like hell. Jack wiped sweat off his forehead and forced himself to reign in his panic. Focus on the next goal. One move, one fight, one battle then the next. That's how you win a war. No matter how impossible it seems, any enemy can be hacked apart.

Jack repeated it over and over, tucking his fear into a box and focusing on immediate needs. He just wished the voice that had taught him that valuable lesson wasn't Hugh, the Delta who had gone rogue for Valhalla. Someone who had hurt Mac, badly. Jack's jaw clenched. A cold smile worked its way into his grim face. He had not only killed Hugh but broken him apart, piece by piece. Jack glanced back at Mac and sighed. He suspected there'd be a lot more broken corpses in their wake before this was all over.


	6. Chapter 6

Mac never understood why the goat was named Piggy. If he had remembered what happened in his teen years, the reference to _The Lord of the Flies_ would have been apparent. But he hadn't. Mac moaned his head twisting back and forth trying to escape the horrors hidden in the earliest dark corners of his brain.

Piggy had an odd coloring. The Man without a face had told him Piggy was very rare and Mac had to take care of him. The tan and white Piggy may have been unusual, but he had the selfish disposition of all goats and Mac had to work hard to keep Piggy from eating everything. It was hard to do when a baby goat was as big as you and had horns he was happy to use every chance he got. Mac hated Piggy. His coarse fur, his constant bleating, the disdain in his eyes no matter what Mac tried. Mac had tried ignoring him and got two sessions in the chair. Mac tried compassion, tried to get the vile smelly beast to like him. Nothing worked.

Then came the test. Almost five, Mac lead a fat Piggy out of their cage by his lead. The Man towered over them. Mac looked down swallowing down puke. He'd been sick once...Mac closed his eyes sealing away the punishment. He'd rather get the chair. The Man walked around Mac and the goat who bleated up at the looming figure with a defiance Mac could never have.

"You've done well, Rabbit." Silently Mac substituted Angus. The boy forced his face to be blank. The Man grabbed the front of his shirt and slammed a fist into the side of Mac's head. Mac landed hard on the cold tile blood pouring out to splatter in spreading circles. Mac knew better than to make a sound. The Man laughed and pulled Piggy's leash dragging the goat away, "You hate this creature, don't you Rabbit?" Mac looked up at the Man wiping his bloody nose with the back of his Winnie the Pooh flannel shirt. Mac moaned. He remembered looking directly into the man's face, but it seemed to slide away, blurry, "Answer me, boy!"

"Not much, no." Mac managed to mumble his swelling jaw was aching with pain. The man laughed.

"Ever the Rabbit, avoiding traps when you can, escaping them when you can't. Come here." The man held out a warm hand. Mac swallowed not fooled for a minute. The only one he could trust in this place was his mother. Mac managed to stagger to his feet and wobbled closer to the Man. He made sure to stay out of grabbing or striking range. This amused the Man. He was fat and always wore black suits with blue ties. Mac remembered being terrified by the Man's eyes, but any memory of what they looked like would slide away into the fog they pumped into the cells at night. They didn't know it, but Mac had figured out a way of using his pillowcase to subvert the flow of the gas away from his face.

He could see the effects on the others. They were cold, like mannequins Mac had seen...Mac shook his head. He sometimes thought he had memories of before, of his mom, of outside, but they were always just out of reach. He'd learned to cry silently at night. 

Mac's breath caught in his throat, and he took a step back his heart pounding to get out of his chest. The Clown. Mac hated the Clown. He looked at his ragged shoes and closed his eyes shoving back tears. He wanted Mommy. She was safe this...this was not. Mac didn't understand what death was then, but he knew other kids who didn't conform, didn't succeed disappeared and another appeared later that same day-once in the same hour. The Clown always took them with a tongue lashing his too red lips, and a gleam of mad hunger in his wild eyes circled in green.

"Ohhh Raabbiiit." The Clown said in a sing-song voice. Mac could feel his body shake and fight not to pee. He watched the Clown through his eyelashes. Mac jumped sucking in a breath and holding it when the Clown pulled the hammer from behind his back. Mac's breathing was too fast; everything spun crazily around him. Tears eeked out of the corners of his squinted eyes. His two tormenters laughed at him. Their voices were a buzz. Mac's stomach rolled over. He fought the puke.

"Ok, boy. Look at me." The Man's voice snapped across Mac's head painfully. His head snapped up on its own volition. The man held out a small pistol. Mac's hands shook as he took it. He closed his eyes. He'd gone through the Clown tunnel hundreds of times, but he hated it. The Clown told Mac that, at some point, the flip out clowns would be real people but he wouldn't know it until it was too late. Mac went into a kind of daze, his body acting on instinct even while his heart screamed.

The Man was always furious, and Mac got a lot of time in the chair and...Mac's brain skittered away from the other punishments. He always got the worst scores. Mac took his penalty without comment freely admitting what a failure he was. Then the Man realized the truth. Mac was deliberately avoiding killing shots. The skill it took to miss like Mac consistently had been...the Man had been elated, almost kind to Mac. Then Mac was given Piggy.

The Clown leaned down to pet Piggy who shied away from him his eyes wildly searching for help from Mac. Mac turned away. How could he help? His fingers nervously ran over the black metal of the pistol. His brain was automatically listing its stats- Colt Mustang XSP, six rounds, .380 ACP. Mac wished he could forget like everyone else. Semi-eidetic recall he'd heard from one of the multitudes of nameless scientists that constantly poked him, taking DNA and tissue samples. He'd asked what that was and the scientist stared at him. Somewhere along the line, Mac had become a thing, an experiment-Rabbit. I'm Angus. Mac said to himself over and over. He would never be Rabbit.

Piggy screamed as the Clown yanked on his soft floppy ears. Mac winced. He didn't like the creature, but he didn't want to see him get hurt. The Clown kicked him. The Man without a face leaned down and put a ham-sized fist on Mac's thin shoulder. He waved at the gun in Mac's hand.

"Kill it." Mac looked up at him, his mouth falling open. He stared down at the gun than at the goat now fighting to escape the Clown. The hand on his shoulder dug in painfully, like a metal claw. Mac thought the Man was going to tear his shoulder from his body. Mac let out a keening wail.

"No...I can't…"

"If you don't kill it, it will suffer horribly. Do you want that?" Piggy became blurry in Mac's tears.

"No...don't please, don't…" The Man tossed Mac to the floor and let out a loud sigh.

"Very well, this is all you're fault, Rabbit. You could have stopped this."

"NO!" Mac screamed as the Clown laughed and smashed down on Piggy's head. The goat screamed...NO!

Mac jolted awake shaking and cold with sweat. He jumped as Fidget licked his face and whined with worry. Mac reached out and pulled the dog closer burying his head in the dog's soft fur. He could smell grass and wild places in the silky warmth. Fidget pushed against Mac rolling him onto his back. The dog sat on Mac's chest and laid his head beside Mac's softly kissing Mac's sweaty cheek. Mac smiled automatically petting his furry friend. He still shook, and his skin felt like it moved on its own. Could that be real? Had that happened?

Mac shoved the dog off him and bolted to the bathroom bending over and letting go of the small amount of food he'd tried to keep down earlier that night. Mac spit and flushed avoiding the mirror. He almost managed to reach his bed before his muscles turned to jelly and he fell to the carpet a quivering mess. Mac closed his eyes and gritted his teeth waiting for the blasts of light and pain. Mac blinked surprised.

He felt weak and worn out, but the constant migraine was gone. If he'd had the energy, he would have smiled. He closed his eyes and forced his breathing to slow and deepen. Already the dream or memory was getting fuzzy in his head, but he knew it was the missing piece of the puzzle. Mac felt very old. Fidget laid along side him and rolled onto his back giving Mac an undignified upside down doggy grin. Mac chuckled and rested a hand on the dog's belly slowly scratching. Fidget wiggled his rump and thumped with his tail impatiently. Mac's hand dropped he was just too worn out. Fidget rolled onto his side, his back to Mac and let out with a disappointed huff.

Mac closed his eyes and moaned. He could feel the ground under him grinding at thousands of miles an hour in circles. His stomach grumbled and spasmed like an angry pig. Mac shivered as his sweat slowly dried. Jack had shaken him awake when they arrived at the fleabag motel. Mac had plopped into bed sound asleep. He had a vague memory of a knock on the door and Jack stepping out into the hall to talk to other men. Mac had been too tired to take in their words, but from their cadence and deferential tone, Mac assumed they were the Phoenix TAC team Matty had sent. Mac was too tired to care how long ago that was, but he figured it couldn't have been too long. Jack and Elmer were both gone. Mac let out a deep sigh of relief. He was tired of falling apart in front of his partner. Of course, laying on the carpet wasn't going to reassure the older man either. As if summoned by his thoughts, Mac heard familiar boots enter the room.

"What the...Mac?" Jack knelt beside Mac. Mac managed to open his eyes into narrow slivers.

"What?" Jack leaned back surprised. Fidget huffed annoyed and left the two men to play with Elmer who was looking too innocent by the door. Soon the two dogs were growling and wrestling on the carpet.

"Are you ok, kiddo?" Mac could see Jack's eyes raking his body looking for any injury, or worsening of injury.

"Hmmm." Mac managed to yawn.

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Bed was too far away," Mac mumbled. He frowned. There was something wrong with that somehow, but he couldn't for the life of him remember what it was. Jack took in the open bathroom and running fan. He scowled.

"You puked again, didn't you?"

"Hmmmaybe," Mac mumbled. Jack reached out and put the back of his hand against Mac's forehead. Cold and sweaty, the kid was shivering and his arms popped with gooseflesh.

"Nightmare?"

"Uhhm-mmm. Memory." Jack's worry spiked.

"How bad?" Mac opened his eyes and looked at Jack. There was a massive tragedy in his full moon eyes.

"I remember everything...or most of it anyway." Mac's voice was hushed, almost a whisper. Jack could feel him shiver more.

"Are you ok? How do you feel? You aren't going to stroke out are you?" Mac managed a mangled smile.

"My head doesn't hurt at all...but no, I am nowhere near ok." To both men's surprise. Mac began to cry. Jack reached down and pulled his partner to sitting wrapping his brother in his arms. Mac exploded into gut crunching sobs. Jack closed his eyes giving into his own tears. Both dogs froze in their play, looked at their humans and shared a look of confusion. They slowly paced in circles around Mac and Jack whining with tails lowered confused and worried.

Eventually, Mac pulled away and managed to hold himself up on a wobbling arm. He wiped at his face and turned away as Fidget tried to help. Elmer had more dignity than his younger brother, but not much. He sat beside Jack and put his paw on Jack's arm giving the man a stern look. Mac and Jack laughed and turned wrestling both dogs until all four plopped onto the carpet exhausted.

"TAC outside."

"Watching the van and clocking surveillance. So what did you remember?" Mac closed his eyes fighting to speak it out loud. In a low voice, he did. Jack listened silently. After Mac finished, silence hung between them for a long time.

"Holy shit." Jack finally breathed.

"Yeah."

"Goes to show one thing."

"Oh?"

"They didn't make you who you are. You were always ornery and stubborn." Mac smiled and yawned.

"They were making assassins," Mac whispered.

"They failed with you." Jack offered. Mac sat up and looked away his heart lurching. He closed his eyes and turned away his shoulders hunching. Jack frowned at the change in his partner.

"Did Matty send intel?" Mac said staggering to his feet. He crossed to the other side of the room and crossed his arms over his chest staring everywhere but at Jack. Jack rolled to his feet and took a step toward Mac. Mac took an automatic step away.

"Ok, what's going on?" Jack said a sharpness to his voice neither man expected.

"It's...it doesn't matter. We have to plan…"

"Mac, just spill it already." Jack winced at the flash of guilt that crossed Mac's face. The kid hunched in closer as if he were standing out in a cold rain storm. Jack backed off and sat on the bed absently petting Elmer's curly hair.

"Mac, whatever it is…"

"Jack!" Mac rubbed his forehead and looked up at the ceiling. Jack took the hint and waited silently, "Rook Island." Mac said softly through gritted teeth. Jack leaned back. His memories of the island were foggy at best, and he did his best to ignore the whole incident. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it. Everyone had told him about how Mac had destroyed the island, and Jack sure wouldn't cry a tear over it, but apparently, something happened. It took all of Jack's will not to demand Mac spit it out. Mac huffed and dropped his arms he looked at Jack, his eyes looked like cold marbles.

"Murdoch," Mac said. He crossed to his bed and slumped onto the end of it. Jack frowned. He'd known their nemesis had been there; he'd just figured the snake had slithered away like he always did, or if they were lucky drowned with Rook Castle. Mac seemed to be waiting for something from Jack. Jack had no idea what.

"Ok?" Mac looked over at Jack his face empty. Jack found this much more worrying than the sobbing or terrors.

"Jack, I killed him." Jack blinked.

"Really? Good for you!" Jack stood up grinning. He felt like he'd been freed from a stone hanging around his neck. He froze and turned to face Mac who stared ahead without emotion. Jack moved over and sat beside his partner, "On purpose?" Mac nodded. Jack stared at the younger man.

"Seriously on purpose, like planned and everything?" Mac nodded. Jack blew out a deep breath. It didn't compute. He remembered the look on Mac's face when Mac sent him to go with Chowder. _I'm going to end it now._ Jack rubbed his arm. His hairs stood up as if a cold wind blew over him from Mac, "Ok, kiddo. Tell me what happened." In a flat monotone Mac relayed the final confrontation on the tower as it broke apart and fell into the sea. Jack stared at his shoes. He pictured Murdoch's smug ass taking the harness and ignoring Mac's warning only to explode into bits. Jack bit his lip to keep from laughing. He knew it wasn't funny, not really but after all the shit that asshole pulled...it was poetic, purely poetic.

He could feel Mac's eyes study him flat as stones. Jack sighed, stood up and started to pace.

"What do you want me to say, bro? Am I sorry? Too bad? Poor Murdoch? Fuck him. If I could have, I would have put a bullet between his eyes and watched as the lights went out." Mac sighed and shook his head. Jack sat back down at the kid's side, "Look, we've taken hit after hit on this. I'm glad you finally hit them back. I know you feel guilty…"

"I don't." Mac's whisper was barely audible. Jack raised an eyebrow. Mac's eyes burned with disgust, " I wish I had done it sooner."


	7. Chapter 7

The five-man TAC team sat sprawled across the room. The room smelled of pizza and beer. Boxes and bottles sat empty around the room Jack leaned over the updated plans of Phoenix Beta team had brought with them. Jack leaned back and stretched. He glanced at his watch and yawned. They'd been tossing ideas around for four hours. In another hour it'd be full light, and they still had only vague ideas for the plan. He looked over his shoulder and frowned at his partner. Mac hadn't offered much to the group. The kid was preoccupied. Jack understood, but if they had a hope in hell, they needed that ginormous brain.

Mac leaned against the wall beside the window peering out the curtain. Jack had made sure there wasn't a good perch in any direction for at least five miles, but knowing a world-class sniper had a gun that could punch through the wall Mac stood against was not helping the older man's nerves.

"Mac?" He asked. Mac had a faraway, almost dreamy, look as he gazed up at the full moon, "Mac!" Mac turned to the circle of soldiers, "What do you think? I know you want to go attack the hospital here but…"

"No, I think we have to take Phoenix back first. Then they will have to retreat to here." Mac's voice was distant, flat. Jack took a quieting breath reminding himself that Mac entire world had been shaken like a snow globe.

"Mac, c'mon, man we need you…" Mac turned rubbing his chin. He returned to the group of men and sat cross-legged beside Jack. He held out his hand and studied the blueprints and what Riley had been able to find out in her brief forays into Phoenix's security system. Jack leaned over and pointed out the laser grid. Mac chewed on his lip as he studied it in real time. He chuckled and shook his head. Beta team exchanged confused looks. They knew Mac was a weird dude, but the kid had impressed the hell out of everyone at Phoenix. Mac looked up smiling at Jack.

"They didn't even change the rate of rotation." Mac sighed and shook his head.

"Mac, use your words. Your Jack-speak words." Jack huffed. Mac nodded.

"See this entire laser cycles on a hexadecimal repeating pattern." Seeing that he'd already lost the guys, Mac paused then tried again, "It's a particular pattern, and all of the parts of this laser grid pulsate at the same hexadecimal ratio...I know when and where the lasers are moving." The other guys nodded sitting back breathing out finally getting it. Mac rolled his eyes and absently petted Fidget who was sleeping beside him. Mac glanced down at his furry friend. For a young active dog, he sure snored, almost as bad as Jack. Elmer laid sprawled on Jack's bed and occasionally twitched in his sleep.

"So what does that mean?" Jack asked pulling Mac back to the task at hand.

"That means I know how to break it."

"Great!"

"The real problem is going to be the invisible drones." Mac sighed and rubbed his neck.

"Why?" Rudd, a tall, dark haired member of Beta asked in a deep rumble.

"Yeah, you blew the crap out of those robots in Iowa," Jack added. Mac sighed.

"Those were prototypes and a lot bigger than these drones. The smaller photocells will make them harder to spot, and they'll be able to move a hell of a lot faster than the lumbering suits." Mac leaned back frowning, "That's not taking into account their offensive capabilities."

"Offensive?" Jack asked. This mess just got better and better. Mac shrugged.

"If I were designing these," Mac and Jack shared a quick glance knowing that in all likelihood Mac had designed them, "I would fit them with guns, lasers, gas, grenades…" Mac waved a hand. The other six guys shared a worried look. Mac flipped through the tablet then looked up at Josen, a small ferret-faced man with glasses.

"Do you have any pictures of the outside of the building?" Josen stared at him; his eyes magnified by the thick lenses.

"Uh...no, it was all we could do to get this intel." Mac nodded and yawned stretching.

"Ok, I'll get that before we attack."

"What are you thinking, bud?" Mac leaned forward.

"The weakest areas of Phoenix have always been outside access points-the garage, the loading dock, the front door. Even the codes to get into the gate are pretty easy to get if you know the algorithm. If I were trying to prevent me from getting in, I would booby trap those areas."

"Bombs?" Nichols, a beefy African-American with Samuel L Jackson eyes. Mac held up a finger.

"Yes, but not typical ones. Any EOD tech worth their salt would spot the usual tricks. I would do something downright underhanded and sneaky." Mac closed his eyes. Jack could almost feel the younger man thinking. The blonde shook his head and sighed, "It'll only be conjecture until we can get a satellite of Phoenix."

"Yeah, that's going to happen." Apex a wiry dark-skinned soldier snorted as he rubbed the black brush under his nose.

"I hate to say it, kiddo, but Apex is right. They'll pick up on our messages the second we contact any satellite." Mac grinned.

"They would if we were using any normal satellite." The soldiers exchanged confused looks. Mac leaned forward with the geeky excitement he got when he was going to do something only another nerd would appreciate. Jack waited, "But we aren't. We're going to use the largest satellite that has been up there as long as there's been earth." Mac bounced to his feet and began to pace his hands templed in front of him. Jack could tell his partner was working hard to keep the speed of his speech slow enough for them to follow.

"What's…" Apex asked.

"The Moon!" Mac said. His smile was infectious as was the sparks of excitement in his eyes.

"The moon? Like the moon, moon?" Jack asked rubbing a hand through his sparse hair.

"In the '50s Project Diana was set up to find a way to bounce signals off the moon. Nowadays it's used by amateur radio operators. It only works for two sites who have to be on the same low frequency, and there's a time lag of about three seconds, but yeah it should work." Mac frowned rubbing his chin as he mentally cataloged what he needed, "In fact, with the equipment in the van, we commandeered I could probably set up a passive piggyback surveillance of this place at the same time. I'd just have to leave an antenna here."

"Awesome, now a plan for getting out of here…"

Leaving ended up being far easier than entering Sonrisa. Jack drove the van while Mac sat in the back covered in wires from the guts of the surveillance systems. Elmer sat in the passenger's seat his tongue lolling in the wind as he stuck his head out the window. Fidget sat behind the seat managing to poke his nose into the wind stream. Jack shot frequences glances at Mac. Mac had been working at a manic pace, burning with a speed that was desperate. Jack frowned. He'd known Mac a long time and knew the signs. Mac was avoiding feeling anything in a big going-to-bite-you-in-the-ass kind of way.

Jack did not doubt that deep down blowing up Murdoch had left tears inside Mac, but the kid felt so topsy-turvy right now it was like a hangnail in the face of a heart transplant. Unfortunately, hangnails can get infected. Jack thought about tiny Mac in the hands of heartless bastards, and his heart broke. Jack absently cracked his knuckles without noticing he was doing it. How could anyone do that to a child, a baby? Jack silently sent profound thanks to Mac's mom and dad. Whatever else may have happened they had gotten Mac free from that and given him a normal life, well mostly normal. That made them god damned heroes in Jack's book. Even Mac's father, who Jack still kinda wanted to punch. Jack sighed. Mac looked up feeling Jack studying him.

"I'm fine, Jack." He mumbled around a mouthful of wires.

"Ok." Jack nodded. They were silent a long minute. Mac set the wires down in his lap and sank back sitting on his heels.

"Jack...I'm...I'm sorry to drag you into all this. If it wasn't for me, Phoenix…"

"Wouldn't exist. Stop it, ok? None of this is your fault, none of it." Mac closed his eyes and rubbed his face.

"You know I...Jack, I know you don't do mushy and all...but, I…" Mac shrugged not sure how to put his feelings into words. Jack grinned.

"Hey, Mac? Me too, kiddo. Me too." They shared a smile. Mac nodded and returned to the pile of wires and electronic components on his lap. Two and a half hours later they pulled up to Chowder's junkyard, tired and sore from the long drive.

Jack jumped out and found his arms full of Riley. She pulled him close.

"Don't ever leave like that again." She said, her voice wobbly. Jack managed a weak smile.

"I'm sorry I ran away, kiddo." His voice was hoarse. Riley stepped back and smiled patting Jack's chest.

"Jack!" Bozer called wrapping the older man in an all-encompassing hug, "You are a sight for sore eyes, man." Jack grinned and put his arm around Bozer's shoulders. Then the tornado of the two wriggling dogs exploded between them. Riley and Bozer bent and were soon receiving their obligatory dog kisses.

"Dalton, about time." Jack turned smiling. Matty returned the gesture. She petted the boys who ran off exploring the junkyard their tails wagging, their noses vacuuming up a myriad of scents. Matty looked past Jack and frowned.

"Where's blondie?" Jack turned and frowned. Mac had gotten out a step behind him; now he was nowhere in sight. Jack shared a worried look with Matty, "I think I need a debrief, now." Jack nodded and followed the smaller woman into the mechanic's bay. He paused to share a look with Riley and Bozer.

"Go help Mac; he's...it's been a tough coupla weeks, hell a few years!" Jack said, his voice high and scratchy. They shared a worried glance.

"You got it," Riley said. Jack nodded and followed Matty.

"Whatever happened…" Bozer trailed off running his hand through his short hair. Riley nodded.

"It's not good. I've never seen Jack look so worn out."  
"At least Mac found him and got him back." Riley smiled at Boze and nodded. It took them almost an hour to find Mac. If it hadn't been for the dogs playing in the center of a dirt path between stacks of cars they probably wouldn't have found him at all.

Mac legs stuck out from deep inside a rusting Volkswagon bug.

"Hey, Mac!" Riley called. Mac paused and glanced under his arm at them. He grinned.

"Hey, guys! Great to see you." Mac then turned back to what he was doing. Riley looked at Boze and motioned to Mac. Bozer leaned on the fender of the car.

"So...Mac whatcha doing?" Mac paused.

"I need the hood, but I want to get the pull for it too."

"Do you need help?"

"No, I got it." Riley and Bozer shared a worried look. The dogs came running chasing each other their tongues dripping with lather.

"What are their names?" Riley called to Mac. Both Riley and Bozer could hear Mac's frustrated growl. They waited, bracing for the emotional tornado. Both gaped at Mac. Mac still had the faint hue of bruising on his face and was as ghost white as ever, but he was thin enough to be a skeleton covered with skin. Worst of all were his eyes; they were dull, haunted. Mac looked like he hadn't slept in years. He wiped dirty hands on his pants and turned his face from them skittish at their surprised stare.

"The Shepherd mix is Fidget he's coming home with me, and the curly haired guy adopted Jack." Bozer managed to clear his throat and look away from his friend.

"So this is our new roomie, huh?" Fidget looked up at Bozer wagging his whole back end. Bozer laughed and offered a two-handed scratch behind the ears. Elmer sat and watched. Riley swore the older dog was mentally shaking his head. Mac managed a smile and turned he reached down and pulled up a thick bundle of wires. He then bent over the rusted hinges and began to attack them with a hammer and chisel.

"Jack said it's been a shitty time," Riley said deciding enough was enough. Mac shot her a look and continued pounding the metal until it gave a snap and the hinge broke. Riley and Bozer both thought Mac was going to ignore them, but he paused and let out a deep breath. Mac circled and leaned on the fender in front of them. He stared at his feet. Boze put a hand on Mac's shoulder and frowned when he felt Mac flinch. He pulled his hand back.

"Sorry, man, I…"  
"No, it's not you, Boze...it's just…" Mac closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. He forced himself to look at the pair. The depth of pain in Mac's blue eyes made them unfamiliar, foreign, "I know what Corydon did…" Mac coughed and turned back to beating the other hinge. Bozer frowned at Riley. It didn't take a genius to add in the silent _to me._

"Mac, are you ok? Seriously bro, are you ok?" Mac paused and met Bozer's eyes with a sad smile.

"I'm as ok as I have to be, Boze." Mac then turned and finished breaking off the hood. Riley and Bozer helped him drag it back to the central bay of the mechanic shop. The black van had been pulled in, and the doors were open the insides stripped. They set down the hood.

"So what's this for again?" Riley asked. Mac studied the roof of the building a hand shading his eyes.

"Ok, we can get a chain and drag it up there, that gable over there is the highest point. I have to connect the electricity…" Mac's voice vanished in the mumble of his thoughts. Riley rolled her eyes and shook her head. She grinned at Bozer and punched him in the arm.

"Have fun boys." She said heading into the command center. Bozer scowled after her and looked up at the roof. It didn't look super sturdy, and the shingles were cracking and loose.

"Fun, yeah...gonna fall right down and break a leg we are."

Matty stared at Jack worry chasing anger across her face. Jack nodded and rubbed his face with both hands.

"He was just a baby!" Matty said it softly, but her voice shook with emotion as if she screamed it in an argument.

"I know. Matty, I'm worried. We've been through hell these last few years...but this...this is the core of who he is. " Jack leaned forward looking into Matty's wide warm eyes, "Matty, I gotta tell ya, I'm not sure if we're coming back from this one." Matty grabbed his hands and stepped closer until their noses were less than an inch apart. Jack couldn't help the tears escaping his reddened eyes.

"Jack, he's going to be fine. Do you know why?" Jack shook his head. Matty put a gentle hand on the man's scruffy cheek, "Because we won't let him fall apart, and if he does we'll put him back together, again and again, no matter how much it takes." Jack nodded sniffing. Matty could feel Jack tremble in her hands, "Now what about you?"

"Me? Matty, I'm…"

"Dalton, don't you dare say fine," Matty growled her eyes narrowing. Jack managed a half smile.

"I was gonna say hungry. Hungry and tired." Matty laughed and shook her head.

"Sure you were."

"Reefers! Go get some of those tacos from that place on the corner."

"Yes, Ma'am!" Jack watched the man run away.

"Either he's afraid of you, or he seriously likes those tacos." Matty batted her eyes at Jack.

"Why Jack, don't you think it's both?" Jack laughed and wrapped Matty in a tight hug. It's good to be home.


	8. Chapter 8

_"All the world will be your enemy, Prince with a Thousand Enemies, and whenever they catch you, they will kill you. But first, they must catch you, digger, listener, runner, prince with the swift warning. Be cunning and full of tricks, and your people shall never be destroyed." Richard Adams Watership Down  
_

Jack finished off half a dozen tacos and a large bin of fries. He could barely stand. Jack took a shower then flopped into Chowder's bed more unconscious than asleep. Matty rolled her eyes and smiled as she slid a light blanket over the man. Matty returned to the open car bay. Riley had pulled the monitors our of the van and had them stacked up on a grimy wooden workbench. Mac was under the table working in piles of cords like a spider in its web. Matty watched them a long minute scowling. Mac looked like an overused alabaster worry stone. His cheeks were angular, and his jaw jutted out over a neck that seemed a foot longer because it was so slender. His shirt bagged off him, and his belt almost circled his waist twice to hold on his jeans.

"One down, one to go," Matty mumbled. She crossed to them.

"Ok, go ahead," Mac said. Riley clicked a switch, and the monitors flicked into life. There were pictures of them, but they zigzagged with static. Mac stood up and smiled. He reached out and smacked the pile of monitors. There was a loud insect buzzing, and a spark snapped from the collection of wires.

"Uh...Mac?" Bozer said worriedly. Mac smiled.

"It's ok, give it a...there it is." The monitors flickered into life. The images were fuzzy around the edges and blinked periodically.

"Great job, Mac!" Riley gushed. Half of the monitors showed highlights of Sonrisa, most centered around the hospital. The rest showed views inside and outside of Phoenix.

"I can't believe we're getting this from the moon," Bozer said shaking his head and grinning. Mac gave him a tired smile back.

"The moon? Like the moon, moon?" Matty asked staring at Mac, once again impressed. Mac shrugged and leaned forward studying the war room. A small huddle of four stood in the center of the room talking to a man on the big screen. Mac winced and rubbed his head. The man's face blurred away. Mac turned to the others his face scrunched as if he were facing into a blizzard.

"Can you guys see that man's face?" Mac blinked against sparks buzzing across his vision. Bozer was at his side in a second.

"Mac, what's wrong?" Mac groaned and closed his eyes.

"That man...he's the guy...he's the head of Corydon. I can't see his face…" Mac turned away and leaned on the front of the black van bending over taking deep breaths to keep his insides from pouring out. Everything vanished into a loud buzz for a long minute. Mac blinked finding himself in a chair with his chest flat on his knees. He shook his head and sat up grimacing with dizziness and pain. Matty put an arm on his shoulder studying him intently.

"Talk to me, blondie," Matty said gently. Mac sighed rolled his head around his neck.

"Somewhere along the line, I was programmed not to see his face. Whenever I try to focus on it...well, getting hit by a truck doesn't sound so bad." Matty nodded and glanced over Mac's shoulder to Riley. 

"I don't have all of my facial recognition software, but I'm running it through what I have on my laptop." Mac grimaced.

"He won't come up. As high as this goes...it won't be that easy. What about the others?" Mac's teammates looked at him surprised, "I think they're...assassins. Probably some of the best in the world." Mac's voice trickled off, and he leaned forward resting his head in his hands. He forced himself to take steady breaths, but Matty could still feel him shaking.

"Ok, give me a sec, and I can get...here I cleaned it up on my laptop." Mac pushed to his feet. Bozer steadied him with a hand on the blonde's shoulder. He could feel Mac's muscles bunch with stress under his hand.

"Ok, here's Valencia Phyree-Grace." Mac studied the woman and rubbed his eyes. The woman looked like a praying mantis- her jaw pointed, her eyes inhuman, her hair perfectly coifed. She reminded Mac of Cruella DeVille. A hot blade slashed through his head. Mac sucked in a breath waiting until it passed.

"Araña." He managed to sputter. The others looked at him confused.

"Spider?" Matty asked. Mac nodded.

"Next, Riley?" Mac's voice was husky. Riley looked at Matty who nodded. They all knew Mac wouldn't be able to focus on this much longer. The next was a man who had to be at least six almost seven feet tall. He was paler than Mac and had a small fluff of mousy brown hair sprouting from the top of his head.

"Mongoose." Mac gasped. The third was a tiny woman. Probably Matty's height with half of her weight. This woman wore a single piece black stocking and had an odd face that could have been of any ethnicity. Her gleaming black hair hung in a long braid down to the back of her knees. Mac moaned and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes bending over. Matty waved at Bozer who slid Mac's chair over. Mac plopped into it and shot Bozer a grateful half smile.

"Ghost," Mac whispered. The last one was a carrot top with a massive square body. He was short but looked as hard as a brick wall. His shirt and jeans were tight with bulging muscles. Mac cried out holding his head in both hands.

"Stone."

"Ok, that's enough." Matty snapped. Riley typed, and the pictures vanished. Mac took several shaking breaths. He fought to keep the half of a taco he'd managed to eat down, "Easy, Mac. Keep breathing." Mac let out a huff of air and pushed himself to sit.

"The only other one is Lupa; she's probably the sniper still back in Sonrisa." Mac rubbed his temples. The fireworks were easing leaving only halos around everything.

"Mac, you ok?" Boze asked. Mac blinked at him surprised. He hadn't realized Boze had crouched beside him.

"I will be. They're the group I remember...all of them, I think." Mac yawned. He turned to Riley, "Start scanning Phoenix, use all color ranges especially low infrared."

"How the hell are we doing that?" Matty said her eyes were not leaving Mac.

"I'm using Sparky's processor to translate the microwaves and radio signals we're bouncing off the moon to signals in the visual range," Mac mumbled. He could hardly keep his eyes open. Matty stepped forward and put her hands on Mac's shoulders.

"Mac, you've made another miracle happen here. Get some rest. We'll gather intel, and when you wake up we'll come up with a plan ok?"

"Matty, I…"

"I was being polite, that was not a request." It took a minute for Mac to follow what she said. He chuckled.

"Fair enough." Mac stood up and almost fell over. Bozer caught him and put the blonde's arm around his shoulders.

"You are getting too skinny, bro," Bozer said. Mac grunted. Bozer shook his head. He half-carried Mac to a back room that had two rows of five cots. The room was empty. Bozer lowered Mac on the closest. Mac's eyes closed before Boze got him straight in the bed. Bozer pulled off Mac's boots and bundled him up. He turned to leave and let out a startled squeal. He whirled to see Fidget nudging him aside with his nose. As soon as Boze was out of the way the dog jumped on the cot and curled up behind Mac's bent knees.

"Dammit, dog. That is so not cool." Bozer growled. Fidget offered a full toothy grin. Bozer shook his head. He petted the dog's head, "You're lucky you're cute." Fidget pumped his tail in agreement.

"Mac?" The voice floated along a gentle wind traveling from the other side of a vast empty ocean. Mac's eyes slowly opened. He blinked. Doc Carl looked down at him. Mac frowned and rubbed his eyes.

"Wh…?" Doc Carl smiled.

"You've slept almost 12 hours. Matty wants me to check you over before you get up."

"What?" Mac heard the words, but they weren't processing. He blinked and sat up. Fidget came running across the room his tail windmilling. He jumped up on the foot of Mac's cot. Mac took a minute to pet him then ran a hand through his epic bed head. He squinted at Doc Carl a little surprised to see he was still there. "Why?" Doc Carl put a hand on Fidget's back gently pushing the dog aside so he could sit beside Mac.

"Mac, you look emaciated and these migraines you've been having…"

"They're better. I've remembered most everything." Doc Carl took a deep breath, the only sign of his frustration. He put a hand on Mac's shoulder.

"Mac, please? For Matty and Jack?" Mac growled and nodded. He winced as he lifted his shirt over his head. Doc Carl paused his eyes widened at the layers of bruising and barely healed bullet wound, "You got shot? When did you get shot?" Mac blinked at him blearily.

"Which time?" Doc Carl shook his head.

"I should let Sally have you." The young doctor growled. Mac glared at him. Mac closed his eyes and gasped as the doctor poked his prominent ribs. He cried out and pushed the doctor's hands away when he started to feel around Mac's bullet wound.

"Alright, already! Damn." Mac grimaced. Doc Carl met his glare with one of his own.

"Do I need to talk to Matty?" Mac's glare could have outshone a deadly laser. In answer, he laid back down and let the doctor poke and prod. Mac closed his eyes trying to ignore the burning flames of agony that flared no matter where the doctor touched. After an eternity, Doc Carl stood up. Mac rasped in a few breaths and opened his eyes. Doc Carl frowned down at him. He shook his head.

"Mac, I'm worried." Mac huffed and sat up slipping on his shirt. Doc Carl put a hand on his shoulder, "Listen, I know you have to do...whatever to get this mess settled, I'm just worried there isn't going to be anything left of you when it's all over." Mac sighed and tried to flatten his unruly wild hair. He looked at the doctor his eyes infinity mirrors of exhaustion and pain.

"You aren't the only one," Mac admitted in a whisper. Doc Carl straightened his mouth agape with surprise. Mac shrugged and slipped into his boots. There was a long minute of silence between them.

"Alright, at least eat for me?" Mac glanced up at the tall curly-haired man annoyed.

"I eat, why doesn't anyone think I eat?"

"Mac, I'm serious." Mac threw up his hands.

"Fine!" Mac stood up and almost did a direct header to the floor. Doc Carl steadied him. Mac rubbed his forehead. He gave the doctor a wry grin, "I think I should probably drink something too." Doc Carl shook his head and walked Mac out to the central car bay. Mac yawned every step.

It was dark outside. Fluorescent lights gave the mechanic shop a crisp otherworldly glow. The TAC teams sprawled along the walls prepping equipment and guns. Sally was rummaging through an enormous duffle with Bozer. Mac was relieved their backs were to him. He did not need to deal with Sally right now. Riley, Jack, and Matty gathered around a table covered with diagrams of Phoenix, Riley's laptop, and two tablets. They looked up as one as Mac owlishly blinked at them. Jack laughed and pulled over a chair. Doc Carl practically shoved Mac into it. Mac glared up at him and rubbed his arm.

"I'm sitting already! Jeez." Mac turned and gave the other three sour looks.

"Somebody's grumpy in the morning," Riley said smiling. Mac

squinted at her. 

"It's morning?" Matty shot Doc Carl a worried look. Doc Carl tilted his chin Jack and Matty slid off to the side for a huddled conference with him. Mac didn't notice he studied the diagrams of Phoenix.

"B7? Any idea what's on that level?"

"No, even Matty says it's over her pay grade." Mac rubbed his eyes trying to push his sluggish brain into gear. He leaned closer and smiled. Riley raised an eyebrow, "You know what's down there?" 

"No, but I know how to take the building back." Even though Mac spoke in his normal voice, his words shot across the entire room. The Phoenix team members froze then grinning pulled in closer.

"Talk to us, bud," Jack said. Mac grinned at him. He pointed to an area indicated as a central machinery point.

"Whatever's on B7 requires a lot of refrigeration. These are the units that provide power to those refrigerators."  
"That will black out the building?" Collins, the leader of Gamma team, asked.

"Not directly, but when the chain of explosions starts…"

"Whoa, hold up there Baby Einstein! What explosions?" Mac flipped through the nearest tablet until he found an infrared view of the glass building. A red spider web seemed to drape across the glass with bright spots linking large sections. Everyone stared at Mac.

"These are hidden shaped charges linked by an IR laser grid…"

"That's why you had me use IR." Riley marveled. Mac nodded sadly.

"It's what I would have done." Matty and Jack shared a worried look," anyway if you look...here in the back? See that? We can use that." Jack leaned closer and frowned. Mac pointed at a giant glowing blob over the building's loading dock. Mac huffed when he got only blank stares.

"Look, remember I told you the most vulnerable places are on the entrances and borders of the lot? This spot is the most vulnerable. They put the largest cluster of explosives to close off the door if we tried to use it. And if you look...see the refrigerator motors are here off to the left of the dock."

"So if we set off the bomb we can turn off the refrigerators?" Bozer asked his head creased in confusion. Mac shot him the mischievous grin that always ended them up in detention or jail. Oh hell. Bozer groaned to himself.

"Not exactly, we're going to set off the bomb at the same time as we're going to take out the refrigeration units." Jack rubbed his eyes with his finger and thumb.

"Why am I getting the idea I'm not going to like this plan?" Mac's chuckle didn't offer reassurance. Mac turned and stared at the black van a thoughtful look on his face. Jack looked back and forth between the van and Mac, "Oh hell no! You can't be serious!" Mac didn't hear him, or if he did, ignored him. The blonde turned to face Matty.

"What time is it? We have a lot of work to do."


	9. Chapter 9

Mac glared at Jack. Jack raised an eyebrow holding the protein shake out. Mac huffed and took it opening it. Jack smiled and stood beside him watching Phoenix work. Mac had been everywhere directing and making suggestions since last night. He looked even more ragged than usual. Jack interrupted him periodically to give him water, food, and nutrition supplements. Jack could tell the kid was getting sick of it and would blow soon. Jack was surprised his partner hadn't already.

Pushing Mac to take in nutrition did wonders for Jack. For the first time since Rook Island he was feeling healthy with Mac which meant worried and Papa Bear, a nickname Matty had given him. Jack didn't mind; the fact was he admitted to being Papa Bear when it came to Mac, Lord knows the kid needed it.

"How are we doing?" Jack did not even try to hide his supervision

of Mac's drinking. Mac glared at him as he chugged down another sip. Jack knew from experience that the taste wasn't great, but it had the protein content of three steaks. Mac had no idea of the meeting between the entire team, Doc Carl and Sally to plan what Mac would be taking in today. Sally had suggested this one. Jack found himself smiling. He wondered if she'd picked it out a spite. Mac wiped his face with the back of his hand.

"Everything should be ready in a couple of hours." Jack nodded and glanced at his watch. They planned to launch their attack at five in the evening, quitting time for the hundreds of people that worked at Phoenix. Most would be gone, and security would be at its weakest.

"Good, then we can get a few hours sleep."

"No, I still have to…"

"Mac, I said we, I mean we." Mac huffed and glared at him. Jack met his glare with implacable calm.

"Fine," Mac growled. He shoved the empty container at Jack then went to check on the welding in the van and the metal bending. Mac had explained each project. They were brilliant, of course, but ultimately untested. The idea of all of Phoenix relying on them to work was eating away at Mac. Jack frowned.

"How's he doing?" Sally asked. Jack looked down at her and shrugged.

"Better than I hoped, not as good as I want." Sally nodded then smiled at Jack. It was her Evil Elf smile. Jack narrowed his eyes, "Out with it." Sally looked at Jack with wide innocent eyes. Jack raised an eyebrow. Sally laughed and pulled out a needle full of medicine. Jack winced. It was a big one, "What's that for?"

"Two things, first it'll knock Mac out for a few hours, and it will help prevent or at least ease the effects of fighting his programming."

"Any ideas on how to jab him with that?"

"The usual."

"Fast and sneaky?" Sally smiled sweetly. Oh boy, this was going to be fun. Jack thought with a resigned sigh.

Mac knelt and pulled the half-inch steel welded to the bumper. He smiled at Collins.

"Perfect! Don't forget to reinforce the front frame and quarter panels…"

"Leaving the break-hinge at the forward door mounting." Mac looked sheepish.

"Sorry, I'm just…" Collins laughed and waved a hand.

"Don't worry, kiddo we got this." Mac nodded and walked towards the other groups grinding his teeth together. Kiddo? When did everyone decide his name was Kiddo? Jack had a lot to answer for.

"Hey, Mac?" Riley came running to him breathing hard. Mac felt a sinking in his stomach. In his experience, running equaled lousy news.

"What's up, Ri?"

"You need to come and check the connections to the satellite dish; the monitors are doing something funky." Mac nodded and fell into step with Riley. Calling the Volkswagen hood a satellite dish was a bit generous, but it was as close as they could get. If he lost the intel coming in now, their plan died before it started. Mac stared at the monitors and slowly checked the wires inch by inch. He crouched over the pile frowning in concentration. He didn't hear the scrape of a boot behind him until too late. Something stabbed his shoulder. Mac yelled and stood to swing. Sally ducked, Jack got a fist in the side of his head hard enough to knock him back a few paces. Mac's eyes widened. He rubbed his shoulder seeing the empty syringe in Sally's hand. Fury burned through him, and he stepped toward Sally. He wasn't a fan of hitting a girl, but enough was enough. Sally watched him calmly. The world suddenly became a roller coaster, and he felt himself fall sideways. Jack caught him neatly. Mac managed to make his mouth work.

"Bitch!" He growled before everything was swept away by a black cloud. Jack grunted lifting Mac and staggered to the sleeping room. Sally followed him, and between the pair, they tucked a pillow, blankets, and a dog around him. Sally smiled down at Mac with fondness as she brushed his bangs away from his pale forehead.

"Using Riley, that was underhanded even for you." Jack said. Sally shrugged.

"Got the job done, didn't it?" Jack eyed her a long minute and glanced at Mac relieved he hadn't been the one on the wrong end of the needle.

"You know, sometimes you're downright scary." Sally patted him on the shoulder as she passed him.

"It's why I get paid the big bucks." Jack watched her sashay off and shuddered. He squatted beside Mac rubbing at the dribble of blood dripping from his swollen split lip. The kid had a mean right cross.

"Sorry, brother." Jack meant it. It was never a good day when Sally had to stab Mac. Unfortunately, Mac wouldn't let his or Riley's part in the ploy to go unpunished. Jack sighed and climbed into the bed across from Mac. Of course, they might all die, and it wouldn't matter.

Jack pulled the van to the hill that overlooked the parking lot behind Phoenix. He swallowed. It was a steep slope then they'd hit the steel gate at 100 miles an hour, bounce over the mother of all curbs and plow into the steel-reinforced concrete wall. If they were alive after that a clump of explosives large enough to sink a ship would explode over their heads. He glanced over at Mac. Mac stared at the building his eyes round. To Jack's surprise, Mac hadn't been angry when he woke up, just dazed distant. Mac looked at him and grinned. Jack laughed and shook his head.

"You know I hate you, right?" Jack said twisting the wheel in his fists.

"Yeah, me too, big guy." They bumped fists then Jack slammed his boot down on the gas pedal. Blowing through the scrub brush, faster than a tumbleweed made it hard to keep the truck perfectly straight. Jack gritted his teeth oozing a gallon of sweat as he fought the wheel. One slide to the right or left and they'd be rolling like dice. Mac assured Jack the van could take it; Mac had spent extra time redesigning the seats and seatbelts with the hope they'd help them walk out of this suicidal mission alive and as undamaged as possible. If surviving a catastrophic tumble, their plan would be toast. Jack thought of the little horror he'd heard about what Mac had endured before the age of five; he knew for damn sure he didn't want to be captured by soulless bastards like that.

"Umph!" Mac cried out as they screeched through the gate and jumped the curb their momentum barely slowed.

"SHIIIIIIIIIITTTT!" Jack bellowed letting go of the steering wheel and crossing his arms over his head. Jack held onto his neck to protect it from whiplash. He slammed against the padded seatbelt then jerked back hard. He had a brief glimpse of cement hitting the triply reinforced glass. Jack marveled that all three layers cracked, but it held. Metal screamed, and he felt the front of the truck snap. Mac had tried to explain how this would be a good thing. Mac had made the entire van into a battering ram, but the car would compress and crush the passengers if they took the hit directly. Somehow Mac had put in weak areas that would snap the frame allowing for the passenger compartment to rise above the engine as it pushed forward below them. Surprise this actually worked and a brief sight of the inside warehouse unloading dock made Jack's heart soar for a beat, then the world exploded and blinked away.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Valencia Phyree-Grace sighed. She was bored. She studied her fingernails. She'd gone a metallic lime; maybe she should have gone with blue.

"Araña." A voice said at her elbow. Valencia managed not to show how unnerved she was. She waited until her heart was under control before turning.

"I told you not to call me that. What is it?"

"Rabbit is close." Valencia sat up her eyes narrowing.

"How close?" Ghost frowned.

"I don't know. Rabbit has always been...unpredictable." Valencia glided to her feet.

"Very well, tell the others." Valencia blinked, and Ghost was gone. Valencia gasped her heart jumping. Even though they'd known each other since they were babies, Ghost still creeped her out. Valencia strode toward ops. She felt a tiny trickle of fear. The idea of Rabbit trying to take back her Phoenix pissed her off, Rabbit pissed her off but also scared her. Of the seven, he had resisted the earliest conditioning. He had escaped. Corydon used him as a warning story even while gushing on about how perfect he was. Valencia's teeth hurt as she ground them together. If Rabbit ever turned...Valencia squared her shoulders. No, she would end him here. Valencia smiled at the thought. It would let her rise higher, perhaps to the Council itself?

She was in the hallway when the building shook with a monstrous blast. Valencia fell against the wall and growled.

"Guess who." She snapped. She stepped out of her shoes and shook her hair free. A wildness poured into her blood. She always loved the kill; this one would be particularly delicious, "Ok, Rabbit let's do this." Valencia stalked down the hallway toward the source of the explosion.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Mac shook the dust and broken glass off his head. He coughed and winced. Everything hurt. He glanced over; Jack hung unconscious in the halter seat belt. The older man was wedged tight against the steering wheel. Mac unclipped his seat belt and promptly fell to the steel-plated floor. He groaned and climbed to his feet. Mac bent over Jack and blinked to clear away fuzziness. He would need help to get his partner out. Mac looked up at the familiar slap of boots against cement. Fifteen soldiers in desert camos ran in formation down the hall. Mac wiped his wet forehead. He glanced at the building around him. It had been a spectacular success. Two of the TAC teams would be breaching at the side entrances. Two teams would be going in the front door accompanied by his team and Matty. The rest would be coming in behind them soon. Mac frowned. You didn't need to be a mathematical genius to figure out there wasn't enough time. Mac closed his eyes. He desperately searched for a weapon, tool, anything, but the van had been picked clean. Mac's eyes fell on Jack's Baretta. Automatically his brain processed information Baretta 92FS, 9mm, fifteen rounds.

He couldn't miss once. Mac closed his eyes remembering the terrified eyes of Piggy, the screams, the pain...Mac's face was expressionless as he pulled out the Baretta and automatically checked the load and chambered a round. His brain seemed to fade into a comfortable fog. His emotions and thoughts were miles away as he climbed out the window and landed lightly on his feet. He walked forward at a steady pace. Mac hardly noticed bullets flying around him. He saw clown targets snap out at him. Hand stable Mac aimed and started firing. Six were down before the soldiers got settled in position. Mac jumped into a low, tight roll and landed behind a pile of a broken wall. He took a deep breath and blinked. Everything was slowed down. His heartbeat took a year for the dub to follow lub. Mac floated to his feet and kept firing. It was as easy as if he were on a deserted firing range. His body thumped twice, a country away, his brain automatically cataloged it as two bullets, not life-threatening.

Mac stopped when all his enemies were on the ground. He automatically went to refill the ammo. He frowned when he realized he didn't have any. Mac blinked. Something was wrong, really wrong. Mac blinked again. There was...he couldn't think. He didn't hear reinforcements come in behind him.

"Holy shit!" Collins said taking in the downed soldiers. He glanced over at Mac who stood staring at them blankly. Every shot had been a perfect between the eyes shot, "Get Dalton out here!" Collins holstered his pistol and handed his rifle to his second in command. He crept forward. Mac took a step and turned. Collins' eyes crossed as he looked down the barrel of Jack's Baretta. Collins gulped. He forced his gaze to meet Mac's. Mac's eyes were empty.

"Uh...Mac, it's ok. Calm down ok?" He said softly. Mac's hand didn't waver, but he didn't fire either, so Collins thought of it as a win. His eyes scanned Mac, the kid's shirt had two holes in it that were soaking with blood. One bullet had taken a chunk out of Mac's arm, the other probably bounced off a rib, "Look, let me help you, you're hurt." Mac's eye blink was slow as if he were stoned.

"Hey, Kiddo." Collins let out an audible breath of relief. Jack stepped beside him. Mac's eyes slid over to his partner then back to Collins.

"You ok, Jack?" Collins asked.

"Hell no." Jack murmured. He had a lump on the side of his head, and blood trickled down his ear. He also felt something broken in his chest. Nothing hurt as much as seeing his partner brainwashed and using a gun. Jack glanced over and shook his head. He'd always known Mac's brain was amazing and he had better hand and eye coordination than most. Mac seemed to be able to figure angles, weights and whatever else in seconds making his motions fluid and efficient. Jack had lost many a game of pool and darts to the kid over the years. But this...this was unbelievable. Jack winced, it would probably shatter Mac later. Triage, Jack told himself. Deal with what they had to do to secure Phoenix.

"Ok, all units are in the building. We're converging in the cafeteria." Collins said. Jack nodded.

"Go ahead; we'll catch up."

"Sure?" Collins couldn't hide the relief in his voice. Jack nodded, and the others left. The Baretta shifted to Jack's face. Mac either didn't notice or didn't care. Jack knew the Baretta was empty, but having your own weapon pointed at your head by your best friend, well it was unnerving, to say the least.

"Hey, buddy. I know you're in there somewhere, do you know me?" No answer. Jack frowned. He did not want to fight Mac. Who knows what deadly skills had been downloaded in his brain when Mac was a kid? Jack opened his mouth to keep trying to reach the kid when Mac's eyes shifted away, and he smiled. Jack frowned, "Mac?" Mac pivoted and lashed out with the gun. Jack blinked in shock as a tiny woman in black collapsed at their feet her mouth bloody. Jack had no idea where she'd come from.

"Rabbit!" Ghost said as she gracefully stood in one fluid motion. Mac didn't answer only dropped Jack's gun and lashing out with an impossibly fast closeline. Ghost did a backflip but not quite fast enough. Mac caught her in the collarbone sending her sprawling. Jack shook himself from the lightning-quick fight between his partner and the woman half his size which seemed more than capable of taking care of herself.

Jack scooped his gun and slid in another magazine. He took a step toward Mac when a bar of muscle and bone grabbed him by his throat and put on a perfect sleeper. Jack didn't hesitate. He aimed the Baretta over his head and pulled the trigger where he thought the guy's face was. He felt the guy's arm jerk, but his grip didn't ease. Damn it. Jack gritted his teeth and fired four more shots before the sleeper loosened, and the mammoth fell to the floor. Jack dropped to one knee breathing fast and shaking his head. He pushed to his feet. Jack had barely managed to straighten before something exploded across the side of his head. He fell on his side groaning. He looked up and up and up. The dude was tall, very very tall. Mongoose? The man's kick was fast as a rattler strike and flattened Jack. Shit. This is so not good. Jack thought as everything again went black.


	10. Chapter 10

" _...If it looks like a rabbit, and it hops like a rabbit, run the other way and fast. That is shit is liable to tear your arm off." J.A. Saare, Dead, Undead, or Somewhere in Between_

Ghost sucked in air through her bloody mouth. She tried to step back, but Rabbit didn't let her. She began to realize why Rabbit was so admired and feared. He was unstoppable. No matter what she did, and she was sure she'd done a lot of damage he didn't acknowledge it.

"What are you?" She screamed as he kicked her full in the abdomen slamming her back flat on the cement floor. Mac didn't answer; his face was empty. Down a long tunnel, Mac watched his body move automatically with speed and skill he never knew he could summon. He knew he had a couple of ribs, and something was wrong in his left leg, but he was floating comfortably in a soothing fog.

Ghost stumbled to her feet. She swayed. Mac smiled then let loose with a devastating spinning rear kick. His boot slammed into her chest. She stepped back shock evident on her face. Blood spurted out her mouth, and she gurgled. She fell backward dead, her chest crushed. Mac turned in one smooth move and blocked a hard front snap kick from Mongoose. Distantly Mac knew something had broken in his arm, but he wasn't worried. He felt nothing. Mongoose lashed out with a double kick combination. Mac danced back, ducked under the first kick stepped in close and caught the second kick on his hip. He wrapped his arm around Mongoose's calf and spun leaning against the joint. Mongoose screamed as his leg bent entirely backward. Without pausing, Mac stepped in grabbed the tall man by the shirt and pulled his head down. Mac turned and flipped the big man over his back. Mac pulled in close and rolled with the tall man landing heavy on the man's sternum.

Mongoose growled and grabbed Mac's hair pulling backward. Mac didn't notice. He rose to one knee then dropped his elbow crunching again into the tall man's throat. Mongoose pulled both hands to his throat panting; his face turned purple. Mac stood up and crossed to Jack's unmoving form. Mac picked up the Baretta walked to Mongoose and without a change in his blank expression shot him in the bridge of his nose. Mac strolled over to Jack and aimed the Baretta at his head.

A lightning strike exploded across his head. Mac cried out in pain and staggered a step as everything spun. Mac ran his fingers across the Baretta. He stood up straight. A mental image of a man floated in his head. Mac smiled. He had a target. He tucked the pistol in his belt and climbed out the broken wall to a small black SUV. He had it running faster than it would have taken if he had the key. He skidded across the parking lot and got onto the freeway heading north.

Matty followed the TAC teams through the front door before the cloud of dust, dirt, and debris landed. The soldiers fanned out behind her. Alpha Two, Jack's second in command, directed the teams to split up and move across the building. Riley and Bozer crept after Matty who walked behind Alpha team. A group of Corydon soldiers ran around the corner. Matty shoved Riley and Bozer behind her and opened up with her Kahr Arms P380 and shot half a magazine. Two opponents fell. Alpha joined the fight, and soon all Corydon soldiers were dead on the tile. Matty dropped the magazine and snapped in a new one. She glanced back at Riley, whose eyes were full, and Bozer who looked like he was going to puke.

"Let's go, Riley, you and Bozer go to the War room and take back our systems." Riley nodded. Alpha two waved them ahead. They were surprised to find all of the ops empty. Matty nodded at Matty and Bozer. Alpha six and seven went in with them to stand overwatch.

"All units are heading for rendezvous in the cafeteria."

"Ok, you head that way, I'm going to the loading dock."

"Ma'am, we should go with you!" Matty shot him a cold look that caused the man to look away.

"Listen." She snapped. They paused a minute. The sound of battle was loud and coming from the direction of the cafeteria. Alpha reluctantly nodded and peeled off toward the cafeteria. Matty growled and crept forward her ears straining for any noise. She was worried. Collins had radioed that the loading dock was clear. Where were Jack and Mac?

Something sharp scraped across her face slamming it back against the wall. Matty went with the movement and spun. Valencia Phyree-grace stood over her, her ugly green nails on her right hand covered in blood. The taller woman screeched then lashed out with a side kick back kick combo. Matty ducked and stepped aside. Valencia's foot cracked the wood paneling. The woman gracefully recovered and stepped back in one smooth motion. She studied Matty her eyes narrowed.

"Do you think you can win?" Matty smiled and pulled out the Kahr.

"Yeah, I like my chances." She emptied the clip, six rounds into Valencia's chest. Valencia stepped back, growled then straightened. She rubbed her chest.

"Ow." She growled. Shit. Matty stepped back studying the woman. Phyree-Grace wasn't wearing a vest; her suit must have kevlar as a lining. Damn. That left the woman's legs and head. Valencia danced forward her hands windmilling like a food processor. Matty grimaced and hit the wall again as Valencia clipped the side of her head. Matty saw locks of her long hair float to the tile like a dead tentacle. It pissed Matty off. She waited. To attack someone half her height Valencia had to fold into a tightly bent position. Only someone who fought like that a lot every day could maintain the awkward pose. Matty guessed Valencia didn't.

Matty stepped back and bent low. Valencia yelled and stooped lower. Matty grinned and grabbed the woman by her lapels and head-butted her. Valencia drew back and overbalanced. Matty pivoted and pulled Valencia over her back. Matty moved both hands to one lapel and pulled the cloth between around Valencia's neck.

Phyree-grace laughed.

"Really? Do...you...think you can...choke...me?" Matty smiled as the woman had to suck in air between words. She could feel Valencia move to stand. Matty separated her elbows putting more tension on the choke hold. The tiny woman put her legs on either side of Valencia's chest and dug in her heels. Valencia was fighting for air now. She jumped backward slamming Matty into the wall. Matty grunted and used the rebound to pull the cloth tighter. Matty grimaced at the wind-stealing impact but held on. Valencia fell on all fours. Her face was a dark rose. Matty put her knee on the woman's butt and leaned back with all of her weight. Valencia pulled at the cloth digging into her neck. Her eyes rolled to white, and she collapsed face first on the tile.

"Is she dead?" Matty looked up to see Jack limping toward her. Matty pulled her hair from her face and stepped off Phyree-Grace's body.

"I don't think so. Are you ok?" Jack had blood pouring down both sides of his head and out his nose which looked broken. He favored his left leg, but it didn't look injured or bloody. Matty glanced at him, and her heart froze with fear.

"Where's Mac?" Jack looked away and shook his head.

"I don't know...Matty, he killed seventeen people back there." Matty's eyes widened.

"He's been activated," Matty said in a hushed tone. Jack huffed wiping away the blood.

"How? He had a grip on this." Before Matty could answer Bozer came jogging around the corner.

"Uhg...uh, the building is ours. Riley says she's got the mainframe back, but everything is gone, they erased it."

"What?" Matty growled.

"They knew we were coming." Matty smiled down at the unconscious assassin, "Well she hasn't been erased yet. Get her in a cell; then we have to find Mac before he kills someone else." Bozer's eyebrows crept up to his hairline.

"Mac killed somebody? Oh man, oh man." Jack put his hand on Bozer's shoulder.

"You can say that again, bro."

Clean up took the next ten hours. Jack, Riley, Bozer, Matty and Doc Carl stood in a circle in the War room. All of them were more relaxed than they had been in the last twelve weeks.

"How are we going to get him back?" Jack asked pacing.

"And how do we keep him together when he learns...what he did," Bozer asked in a subdued whisper.

"More importantly where is he going and what is he going to do once he gets there?" Matty demanded.

"I managed to find the backup video from the loading dock." Matty nodded, and Riley put it on the big screen. All five watched it their mouths agape.

"Holy shit," Riley said watching Mac taking out fifteen soldiers in less than twenty seconds.

"Every one a perfect head shot." Jack offered. Jack winced at the fight between Mac and the other two assassins. He paused it and turned to Doc Carl.

"He took some hard hits, I'd be surprised if he has a bunch of broken bones, why isn't it slowing him down."

"He seems not to feel it." Bozer agreed. Doc Carl rubbed his chin.

"One of Mac's greatest abilities has always been compartmentalizing. I think he's disassociated from his physical body."

"Like he's on autopilot?" Jack asked frowning. Doc Carl shrugged.

"Riley keep going." Jack's breath stopped when he saw Mac casually point the gun at him. Jack closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"Oh, Mac." He sighed. Riley crossed to Jack's side and put a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Look," Bozer said pointing at the screen. Mac brought the gun up then curled over with agony in his head. Mac turned and stared into space blankly then crept outside. Riley clicked off the video. Jack turned to face Doc Carl. Doc Carl closed his eyes and shook his head.

"This is all my fault." He murmured.

"What?" Jack said, his voice edging up an octave. Doc Carl met his gaze.

"When Mac fought his programming he had blinding pain in his head."

"We know that," Bozer said impatience sharpening his tone.

"I gave him a migraine medicine to help prevent the pain."

"It worked, he didn't have a headache," Riley said her brow furrowed in confusion. Jack crossed his arms over his chest and eyeballed Doc Carl with aggression.

"But he was dazed...it took away his ability to fight the conditioning didn't it?" Jack's voice had dropped to a deadly flat voice. Doc Carl nodded looking miserable. Matty stepped between the two men.

"Ok, we need to focus on what to do now." Doc Carl looked at his feet and ran a hand through his curly hair.

"The shot lasts twenty-four hours, but I'm not sure how he'll react when it wears off."

"I'd guess it won't be good," Jack said staring at Doc Carl as if the doctor was a scrying mirror. Doc Carl shook his head.

"All the pain, and things he's done…"

"It'll flatten him," Bozer said closing his eyes.

"The big question is where did he go?" Riley asked. Everyone thought a long minute. Jack sighed.

"Sonrisa, he's going after that Man without a face."

"With his defenses down, he'll know who he is." Doc Carl said.

"Well, we need to get to him first. Jack, take a Blackhawk, go get our boy." Jack grinned and spun toward the door, Bozer a step behind. Jack paused he glanced at Matty who nodded then nodded. They both hurried to the helipad.

"Now we get to solve the mystery of what's in B7," Matty said. Riley nodded and gathered her laptop following the diminutive woman to the elevator.


	11. Chapter 11

Matty and Riley froze when they heard a soft whoosh. They shared an uneasy glance and slowly turned. They could see slight blurs buzzing down the corridor in front of the elevator. Their eyes couldn't follow them, but they made a high pitched flutter like a hummingbird diving.

"Son of a bitch!" Riley huffed more annoyance in her tone than fear.

"I was wondering what happened to them, " Matty said dryly, "I thought you turned them off," Matty drew the Kahr studying the faint dimples of movement almost too fast to follow. The effect of them converging in a cloud left the air looking like it was a wavy mirage.

"I did, and the command programs were deleted."

"Obviously not," Matty growled.

"Why are they just hovering?"

"I don't know, but it can't be good." There was a snap then a sound of static.

"Oh, girls, I couldn't leave without a present. Phoenix treated me so well while I was here." Valencia Phyree-Grace's voice squeaked from each drone giving it an odd thrumming echo. It was creepy.

"I really hate that bitch." Riley declared. Matty didn't say anything. She remembered Mac's warning about offensive capabilities. She did not doubt that the makers of these things wouldn't have had the same idea.

"Damn," Matty muttered scanning their options. Mac had made several badminton racks that sputtered with electricity, but those had gone with the TAC teams. Matty stabbed the elevator button. It came on, and they could hear the familiar grumble of it working, but the door didn't open, of course, "Riley on the count of three, run…" The crackle of multilayered spinning laser grids snapping into life cut off her voice. They covered the corridor in both directions. Trapped in a ten-foot-square box, both women felt the heat from the lasers.

"That explains why they were waiting."

"No kidding." Matty's eyes gleamed as she took in the water fountain beside the elevator. She shrugged out of her denim jacket, "Riley, get the elevator going again. I got these overgrown flies." Riley's eyes bugged out, and she stared at Matty a few heartbeats. "Riley!" Matty snapped. Riley nodded and opened her laptop she held it in her left hand as she typed fast with desperation with her right. Other than an occasional glimpse at the hovering death machines, Riley put all her focus on the hack.

Matty edged over to the fountain and shoved her jacket under the water until it was dripping wet. The drones were separating moving into the same strafing pattern she'd seen on any documentary of planes in WWII. Matty smiled. If Mac had programmed these, they would know better than to form in such a predictable formation. Matty smiled realizing that their little computer brains were trying to figure out which was the more significant threat. Another design flaw. Matty had never been so happy not to have Mac design something with his usual thoroughness. The fish scale ripples in the air started to turn toward Riley. Nope, that won't do at all. Matty rolled her coat into a long tube then started swinging.

Jack may not be the best baseball coach, but he'd helped her master the home run swing. Matty smacked three of the drones before the others computed their danger and turned to her. The drones made a comical warble as they skittered the short distance to the lasers and exploded in an arc of sparks leaving perfect cubes to fall to the ground. Matty ran toward the swarm coming at her and swatted up in the middle of the pack. The whole formation scattered.

Matty blinked away drops of water that fell into her eyes. She saw a flash out of the corner of her eye and cried out at a burn slicing along the back of her right arm. She could smell cooked flesh.

"Damnit," Matty growled. She dashed to the wall of lasers taking hits on her left shoulder and across her temple.

"Matty!" Riley cried. Matty didn't take her eyes off the mechanical insects.

"Keep hacking!" Matty snarled as she smacked two more drones into the lasers. She slapped another one to the floor. It sparked and hopped along the tile like a wounded fly. Matty slammed her foot on it. It hummed and stopped moving. Matty fell to her left knee as two dive-bombed her lower leg strafing her calf along the way. Little sons of bitches were learning. That the designers probably did get from Mac. Shit. She saw the air in front of her ripple faster as a group too big for her count dove at her. Matty smiled waiting. When she saw the first flash of light, she flattened. Unable to stop themselves, they flew one after another into the laser grid. Matty forced her left leg to work. The air still shimmered with the nasty things.

"Matty, go!" Riley yelled as the elevator doors slid open with annoying casualness. Riley ran into it. Matty paused to swat at the drones then turned. She jumped and rolled into the elevator as the doors were sliding closed. Riley bounced back as she got burned across her cheek. Two made it in with them. Riley put her hands up as they swooped toward her.

"Riley!" Matty tossed Riley her jacket. Riley ducked a tiny laser beam and smacked the first one into the wall. It blinked becoming half visible. Riley stomped on it. Matty reached up and grabbed the last one. It squeaked with desperation as it tried to motor out of her hand. It managed to slice Matty's forearm. That was the final straw. Matty knelt and bashed the thing against the elevator floor over and over.

"I...have...had...enough...of...you!" Matty then stood up and stomped on it, her anger coming out in a long angry stream of swears. Finally, breathing hard she leaned back. She pulled a hair away from her sweaty face.

"Uh...you ok, Matty?" Riley had backed into the corner and looked more than a little worried about Matty's loss of temper. Matty grinned and rolled her neck.

"Never better, shall we?" Her voice was calm, almost sweet. Riley smiled and shook her head. She frowned. There was no button for B7. She glanced at Matty who growled.

"Of course, go to B8 looks like we're going to see how Mac feels crawling around elevator shafts." Riley made a sour look.

"Great, always wanted to."

JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ

Jack glared out the window wishing the military helicopter could go more than the 222mph the craft was struggling to maintain. The two pilot crew held the sticks with white knuckles. Jack bit back his impatient pleading, knowing they were doing their best.

"Ten minutes out." Pete, the pilot, said not daring to take his eyes off the path in front of them. Jack was about to acknowledge over the mic in his earphones, but a sharp sting on the side of his head interrupted him.

"Damnit, Bozer! Enough already." His voice was sharp and threatening. Bozer skittered back. Jack forced his body to relax, "sorry, buddy. Just worried…" He didn't have to finish his sentence before Bozer gave him an understanding smile and nodded. Both men barely contained their panic for their mutual best friend.

"It's ok, Jack. Just wanted to clean off the blood, so we don't scare the crap out of the Stepford people." Jack smiled and again tried to say something when he heard two cries of pain followed by a painfully fast nosedive. Both of the fight crew slumped over unmoving. Jack barely recognized the crack of the sniper rifle over the grinding motor.

"Shit!" Jack growled. He leaned forward and shoved Pete's corpse to the side and grabbed the cyclic pulling it back lifting the nose of the helicopter. Jack twisted the throttle enough to keep their lift but not enough to stall the engine. There really wasn't much more he could do. He couldn't reach the collective on the other side of the pilot's seat or the anti-torque pedals, which would be very handy about ground was coming at them fast as a warhead. Jack jumped back and bent Bozer lower covering him with his body. There was a second of grinding then they hit. They hit hard. The Blackhawk slammed into branches of a forest then tumbled end over end until the ground stopped them.

Jack cried out as his back slammed into the roof of the chopper and Bozer's elbow plowed into his stomach. Then both men bounced off the compartment's rear wall then they rolled over the pilot's seats and crashed into the crumpled mess of metal, plexiglass, and chunks of pilot.

Jack moaned mentally scanning his body. The only potentially life-threatening wound he felt was in his stomach from Bozer's elbow. He touched it and gently pressed on it. It hurt like hell, but it felt like bruising not internal bleeding. Jack barely managed to suck a breath in as the first wave of pain hit him. He forced his body to relax and his brain to gather itself into coherence.

"Boze? You alive?" Jack managed. He wiped his mouth spitting out globs of blood and two teeth.

"No." Boze groaned. Jack managed a small smile which evaporated in the flaming haze of pain as he forced his body to move. Bozer was slowly pulling himself up from the same ungainly sprawl.

"Now hold on, Boze. Let me check you out man." Jack growled. Bozer smiled wiping blood running down his chin.

"Maybe you can wait until we're out of this tin can which is about to explode?" Jack frowned about to tell Bozer it wasn't likely to explode. Usually, if a helicopter were going to blow it'd do it on impact, but Jack smelled jet fuel and heard the crackle of fire.

"Good point, bro." Between them, they managed to pry open the rear door and climb out. They could feel the blaze against their skin as they choked in the thick black smoke.

"Jack!" Bozer yelled as the older man ducked into the helicopter and dragged out a long cloth case. Jack spun grabbed Bozer's arm and hauled him away from the blackening crash. They stumbled into the woods, and Jack tripped Bozer and shoved him behind a large fallen oak. They both shared a long, panicked look. Jack put his ears in his fingers. Bozer's eyes widened, and he did the same. They pressed down into the leaves as hard as they can. The explosion still caught them by surprise. Both men yelled as they could feel the billowing flame flow over them before lifting in the familiar firey mushroom.

Bits of flaming debris rained down on them. Jack beat out a fire that started in the leaves in front of his face. He felt Bozer smacking his calf and turned to see his leg was on fire. Jack's eyes widened, and he nodded at Bozer. Bozer offered a weak smile. They covered their heads as another explosion followed the first. This time heftier pieces of the Blackhawk dropped from the sky. Both men curled as close to the tree as they could. Jack yelped as something heavy slammed into his lower back. He thought he heard Bozer yell but it was hard to hear over the ringing in his ears.

Jack grunted as he shrugged the cone from the front-most part of the Blackhawk off his back. Leaning on the mushy tree, he pushed himself to his feet. Jack stared at the helicopter wiping blood from his chin. He felt Bozer lean on his shoulder.

"Damn, Jack, what the hell happened." Jack's eyes narrowed.

"Sniper, best one I'd ever seen." Bozer frowned at the admiration and fear in the older man's voice. Jack bent with a groan and slung his sniper rifle over his shoulder.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, bro," Bozer said. Jack shook his head and looked at Bozer his face deadly serious.

"Boze, those were two perfect shots less than a second apart on a moving target from over three miles away. This gal might be the best sniper in the world." Bozer's mouth hung open as his mouth dried like Death Valley. Jack shrugged his shoulders working out kinks. He took in the woods. They had the same burnt amber coloring as the park he and Mac had been in earlier. Jack frowned pondering which way town would be in when the decision was taken from him. He heard the squeal of tires, a lot of them. On the good side, the street was a lot closer than he'd thought and he now knew which direction to go. On the bad, a whole bunch of black vans was closing in on them.

"Let's book it," Jack growled grabbing Bozer's arm. They ran as fast as they could deeper into the woods. Jack winced. The underbrush was a mixture of half-dead saplings and thigh-high grass. He didn't think they could have left a better trail if they tried. He paused looking back. He could hear the familiar buzz of TAC radios and stomping boots as they crashed toward the helicopter. Jack held up a hand.

"Who the hell are you waving at?" Bozer gasped thinking Jack had lost his mind.

"Shush." Jack hissed. He crouched pulling out his Barret M107. He popped out a round and pulled the bullet out of its housing. Jack drizzled the gunpowder onto the grass. Jack stood and fed in the empty casing.

"You ready to run like hell?" Bozer shrugged. Jack shot him a wild grin that upped Bozer's anxiety. Jack led the way. They ran a hundred feet. Jack paused aiming back at the gunpowder; he grimly smiled as he fired the casing. He was rewarded with a spark, flare then flickering of a fire.

"Great job!" Bozer gushed punching the air. Jack shared a grin with him. The wind was blowing the fire away from them, but Jack hadn't counted on how dry the foliage was. In seconds a wall of flame higher their heads sprawled in all directions.

"Shit! Run, Boze!" Jack ran full tilt through the forest; he could hear Bozer panting at his side. They both tripped and stumbled holding onto each other to keep moving. The fire roared behind them, the noxious black smoke burning their eyes. Jack glanced to the side and grinned. He shoved Bozer and pointed. Bozer smiled and turned. In seconds, they were running on pavement. The first sirens screeched past them. Fire trucks and police. Jack smiled, "Time to earn your Oscar, man."

"Wha…" Jack ducked under Bozer's arm. Bozer got the idea and made a show of drooping almost unconscious. An ambulance was blaring toward them. Jack waved frantically yelling "Help!" as loudly as he could. The ambulance skidded to a halt two identical paramedics jumping out of the vehicle. Like everything else in this crazy town, they were creepy. They moved silently in perfect tandem. It was like having double vision while you watched mannikins dance.

"You gotta help me! We were hunting and this fire came and...aw, fuck this." Jack growled as he drew close. He pulled his rifle from behind his shoulder and slammed the butt into the closest guy's windpipe. Jack used his momentum to pivot on his right foot and plant a powerful spinning back kick into the other guy's sternum. Both fell to the ground. Jack hammered the guy in the center of his face. He checked the first paramedic. Neither would be getting up ever again.

"You are one...total badass, dude," Bozer said his eyes wide. Jack shot him a predator's grin.

"Duh, come on bud." Jack climbed into the driver's seat. As soon as Bozer settled into the passenger's, Jack revved the engine, spun a quick u-turn turning on his lights, and headed for Sonrisa at an insane speed.


	12. Chapter 12

"I don't know how Mac does it." Riley gasped as she pulled herself through the jimmied elevator doors on B7.

"No kidding." Matty panted helping the younger woman up. They were both covered with dust and dirt. They glanced at each other and braced themselves. Outside the door was the same entrance hallway as every floor in Phoenix had only this one did not have the polished beige marble stone, but grimy grey concrete. The overhead commercial fluorescent lights bleached the walls to the color of old bones. The air was stuffy but still cold.

Matty glanced at Riley who nodded. Stainless steel doors locked with a code blocked them from entering the rest of the floor. Matty glanced at Riley who studied the complicated lock. She shook her head

"I could crack it, but it'd take hours."

"Right, step back." Matty shot the lock at an angle that sent the ricochet sparking against the cement then skidding across the floor. She turned away as the electronic device exploded in sparks. The door hissed like a flattened tire and slowly clicked open. Matty frowned and eased through it. She stopped in shock. They entered slowly. Emergency lights lit the vast room making it look like a store's display. Or a life-sized diorama of a haunted house. In some ways, it was a typical kindergarten classroom with kid-sized chairs and tables. The carpet had bright squares with letters in them. Children's pictures hung on every wall. As they entered the room and their eyes adjusted to the dim light, the depth of the horror grew.

Gruesome life-sized clowns splattered with blood carrying weapons covered every available wall. Matty studied them carefully for a long time before she accepted they actually were paintings and not clowns waiting to attack.

"I am never teasing Mac about being scared of clowns again," Riley said her voice loud in the empty room. Matty nodded and walked over to the shelving along one wall. Kid's belongings filled wooden cubicles labeled with children's names in crayon. The shaky letters on the labels, the wrinkled clothes, the discarded jacket, and plastic lunchboxes gave the space a poignant normalcy. In contrast, the guns, clubs, munitions and petite kevlar were not. Matty pulled out a grenade it was painted wood, but the pin-pull and heft were the same as a real one. Riley pulled out a metallic pistol similar to Matty's. All the parts moved but bullets could not be fed into it.

"This is sick," Riley growled. Matty nodded and led the way across the room. An open hallway led off from the rear of the room. The hall had a chemical smell and looked white, and antiseptic as an ideal hospital room could be.

"I'm coming out, please don't shoot!" Matty lifted her pistol to ready. A pair of old African-American hands showed around the corner followed by a woman with round plump curves and a short cap of white hair. Her dark eyes hung in her eyelids like setting suns. She stood straight and licked her lips. Her eyes kept darting into the room behind her.

"There are children in here, please don't hurt them." She said. Her voice was soothing and kind.

"Who are you? What the hell is going on here?" Matty demanded not relaxing a muscle.

"I'm Alice Lewis...I had no choice you have to believe that! If I didn't help, these kids would never know a kind hand. It isn't their fault, don't hurt them."

"Hands against the wall." Alice didn't hesitate. Riley patted her down as Matty covered her with the Kahr. Riley pulled Alice's hands back and cuffed them with zip ties. They walked Alice to the classroom and made her sit in one of the chairs. Matty nodded at Riley who sat down in a chair across from Alice bringing out her laptop.

Matty slipped down the hall. She swung into the room to the right. She dropped her pistol to her side hiding it from the seven sets of young eyes staring at her. Bunks lined two walls, and a small restroom sat open along the far wall. Beside that...Matty closed her eyes and looked away. She could make out rows of child-sized chairs with built-in shackles.

The kids sat up as one, climbed down and stood crisply at attention in a line in front of their beds. They looked to be 3-4 years old and wore identical plain grey uniforms. They had indistinguishable military haircuts. Their faces were expressionless. Matty stowed her gun in the holster at the small of her back. Matty stepped close. The girl looked fragile as a porcelain doll. Her eyes were frozen screams of resignation.

"What's your name?" Matty asked the girl closest to the door. She was a carrot top and impossibly pale. Matty frowned, had these kids ever seen the outdoors?

"Stinger, Ma'am." The girl bellowed it like a recruit in basic training.

"No, your real name?" The girl's green eyes stared at Matty confused.

"I do not understand, Ma'am." Matty nodded.

"Ok...uh, fall in." They all chorused "yes ma'am" and turned as one following Matty out to the classroom. Alice's face lit up when she saw her seven charges unharmed. The fell into a formation at the front of the room and stared ahead. Matty had the feeling they would stand that way for hours if she ordered it. Riley gaped at them then looked at Matty.

"At ease," Matty said. They all put a foot out a step and crossed their hands behind their backs, "Ok, sit down." All seven were suddenly sitting. Matty blinked they'd moved so fast she hadn't seen it. Matty shook her head and went to check the other room down the corridor. She froze at the door and turned away her stomach roiling in sick disgust. She'd discovered why the floor needed so much refrigeration. Rows of specimen jars stretched off into the distance. Each filled with a tiny body in various stages of dissection. The corpses ranged from fetuses barely three inches long to bigger kids; Matty thought she saw a boy who couldn't be more than ten. She turned closing her eyes trying to breathe. Matty had seen a lot in her life, but this was the most soulless horror...well past anything she could have imagined in her darkest nights.

"Matty are you ok?" Matty held out a hand stopping Riley from coming farther down the hall.

"Call...Riley, call everybody." Matty stuttered fighting to control her stomach. Riley blanched and nodded pulling out her phone. Once Matty had herself under control she strode over to Alice and fought the urge to crack the woman's skull on the table beside them.

"You better start talking, and you better be saying things I want to hear, or I'll make you wish you'd sat in those chairs in the back," Matty growled. Alice's eyes dropped. Matty could see a trickle of tears stream down her face. Matty glared at her feeling the need to break the bitch's head getting stronger and stronger.

"I've been with Thantos...more years than I can count." The woman's voice held centuries of soul deterioration, "Corydon started the project after the Soviet Union fell. He foresaw the coming of terrorist states and wanted the perfect assassin team that could topple governments." Thanatos, Matty grimaced not sure if her churning stomach would rebel or not. They used children in a project called "Death" Alice's shoulders drooped, and her eyes fell to the floor. Her face was a study in guilt and shame.

"It started out as psychological testing...physiological limits, reaction time, the speed of learning stuff like that. When Claudius took over Corydon…"

"Who?" Alice looked at Matty surprised.

"Claudius, I doubt that's his real name. He's the United States on the Council...you probably think I'm spinning conspiracy theories." Alice sighed, "I tried to escape, to tell the police or somebody...but there's no escaping these people." Matty frowned and held up a hand.

"One step at a time. What's this Council?" Alice's voice dropped to a whisper. 

"They run everything."

"What do you mean everything?"

"I mean EVERYTHING. The Council holds all the money, control the markets, the media, the governments...they literally rule the world. There are seven each one over a chunk of the world." Matty felt her heart pitter-patter. She shook off her paranoia. Stick to the facts.

"Ok and Corydon?"

"It's Oversite for North America, Claudius is in charge of America." Alice's tears ran down her face.

"If you'd seen what they've done to these kids…"

"I have!" Matty snapped. Alice's head jerked to the side as if Matty had slapped her, "Where is Claudius now?"

"They have a city out west where they train the protectors."

"Protectors?"

"People who monitor and supervise the graduates." Matty pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Graduates? These are children! What you do...it's obscene. If it were up to me, I'd shoot you right now." Matty gritted her teeth trying to pull back the wave of rage. Alice nodded offering a small, sad smile.

"I wish you would." She murmured. Matty took a deep breath.

"Ok, so you started out with psychological tests, then?"

"Thantos started with older subjects, kids in their late teens. They found that they didn't have the automatic reflex capacity of children or the ability to absorb information of toddlers."

"And they weren't so easy to control," Riley said. Alice nodded.

"Then they started with brainwashing…"Alice turned aside her gaze drifting into the distance, "The things they did to these kids...it would break grown adults." Alice sniffed. She met Matty's dark gaze, "I will never be clean of it."

"Oh boo hoo." Matty gritted. She paused a thought occurring to her, "What about MacGyver?" Alice looked at her perplexed.

"Rabbit." Riley snarled. Alice's eyes widened, and she smiled a fond smile.

"Angus, that's what Mary named him. He was the first baby born in the program. His mother, she was beautiful and had such a heart…" Alice closed her eyes and shook her head, "She loved that boy so much."

"Why did she participate?" Alice's eyes filled with ghosts.

"She had no choice, none of us did. She was brought in as a chemist. We were all tested to see what part of Thanatos we fit in the best. Her IQ blew past any tests given to her. Mary was ridiculously smart. She was head of food testing and planning. Back then we worked out of a secret bunker under a house. To keep up appearances, someone had to live in the house. They wanted her to be the first mother, so they let her live there. At first, she was allowed to come and go as she pleased."

"She took up with a boy from a nearby cabin."

"Mac's dad?" Riley asked her eyes full. Alice nodded.

"I never knew his name. He had no idea about Thanatos and never came out to the house. I have no idea what Mary told him. Long story short Mary got pregnant, and Rabbit was born."

"Angus, his name is Angus," Matty growled. Alice's eyes widened.

"He's alive? He's really alive?" Riley shared a surprised glance with Matty.

"Yes, you didn't know that?"

"No. When he was a baby, Mary was allowed to keep him. He had his own nursery and...she loved that boy...he was exceptional. Rab...Angus was as smart as a sixth grader by the time he could walk. His hand and eye coordination were astounding. We had a hard time finding a class to build around him."

"Class?"

"The ideal infiltration group had seven members. We had to find six others as remarkable as Angus."  
"You sound like you went shopping at a baby store, where did these kids come from?" Riley's eyes were dark flames of fury.

"I don't know. After Angus, they...they grew their own…" Matty couldn't take any more she grabbed the woman by the front of her shirt and yanked her down. Matty grabbed the woman's hair and slammed her face against the wooden table twice.

"Uh...Matty? We still need her for questioning." Riley said making no move to help their prisoner. Matty glared at Riley then shoved Alice hard enough the woman fell off the chair sideways. Her forehead, nose, and chin spewed blood. Alice looked satisfied. Riley didn't know if it was because she was free of this horror, if she'd gotten away with something, or if she wanted punishment. Riley looked up as TAC soldiers, Sally and Doc Carl spread into the space. Matty barked orders as she approached Alpha two. Riley watched as the man talked to her at length. Matty's face turned red, and Riley could see her shake. Waves of wrath scalded the air around her.

"How did this happen?" Riley winced at Matty's bellow. It was not something anyone wanted to be on the receiving end. The TAC soldier towered before the Dynamo half his size like a scolded child. Matty shook her head and waved the man away. Riley looked at Matty expectantly, "Valencia Phyree-Grace is gone." Riley's eyes widened, and she stood up.

"Shit."

"Yeah, now we gotta figure out how to clean the cockroaches out of our house."

Bozer screamed bracing himself on the dashboard as the ambulance swerved across the road smoke billowing from the engine and tire. Jack gritted his teeth hunching as low over the steering wheel as he could. He winced as he felt the air push of a bullet less than an inch from his ear.

"Now she's playing," Jack muttered more in irritation than anger or fear. He admired this sniper. He looked forward to killing her, but that didn't mean he didn't respect her work. Jack aimed the ambulance for a row of maples lining the streets. It wasn't much; little cover was better than none. The ambulance stopped with a bounce as it hit a tree with surprising gentleness.

"Bail! This way." Jack grabbed his Barret and dove out the door. A bullet zinged off the steering wheel the second he moved his hand. Jack frowned. She could have taken them a hundred times since they entered Sonrisa. Lupa was stalling them. Jack's heart slipped to his gut. Someone wanted the two of them alive, that did not bode well. Jack sure wasn't going to bet on that lasting. He crouched low behind the biggest of the trees. It had thick branches and blocked the view of the only place she could be perched the square tower that rose above the "hospital" like a middle finger.

Why they pretended it was a hospital was beyond Jack. It looked like a cross between an asylum and an overcrowded prison. With the barbed wire, it belonged in Auschwitz instead of the heart of a perfectly clean American town-even if that city was creepy as hell.

"What are we going to do?" Bozer's squeak cracked with terror. Jack shot him a grin.

"Take 'er easy, Boze if they wanted us dead, we'd already be dead." Bozer's wide-eyed stare told Jack this was not as comforting as he'd intended. Jack stared at the tree a long minute. He handed his sniper rifle to Bozer who almost dropped it, "Careful, Boze, Bertha is a sensitive lady." Bozer raised an eyebrow.

"Bertha?" Jack chuckled as he pulled himself up into the foliage.

"It's a long story, bro. I'll tell ya sometime if you get me drunk enough." Bozer chuckled.

"It's a date." Jack poked his face out scowling at Bozer. Boze held up a hand, "I mean we can do that ...if we survive." Jack grinned and took the Barret from Bozer.

"That's the spirit!" Jack said. He turned and crept higher into the bush of the tree. Bozer's eyes widened, and Jack smiled in admiration. He couldn't see Jack, and he was only five feet away. The man was good at what he did.

Jack slowly pushed the branches in front of his face aside. He breathed with the same learned silence used in jungle battles around the world. Jack knew Lupa couldn't hear him, but if he let down his guard one iota, she could kill him as quickly as pulling fruit from a tree. He eased the barrel of the rifle through the leaves and studied the tower through the scope. Jack moved systematically shutting out everything else. He frowned at the number of soldiers scurrying around the parking lot around the building. It was a fricking battalion! Jack wondered if they were for Jack and Bozer or if they knew Mac was coming. Jack's heart lurched. He hoped Mac didn't come here. He thought of the damage he'd seen Mac do over the years. The soldiers had no idea how outclassed they were.

Jack shoved aside his gloomy thoughts and smiled as he caught the tiniest glare from a balcony near the top of the tower. He lengthened his breathing and relaxed his body. Keeping both eyes open he widened his eyes and stared at the terrace. Snipers were trained not to move a muscle for 48-72 hours depending on the unit. As good as she was, Jack had no doubt catching Lupa moving had the same success level as a snowball in hell. He relaxed his vision letting his eyes drift over the area, allowing his instincts to guide him. Jack breathed out. The world vanished in a tunnel. He could see a small shadow. He moved the Barret minutely. Jack mentally estimated distance, wind shear and angle of light. The shadow was a profile. Jack smiled. It told him exactly where the woman's head would be.

Jack blinked. Took a breath held it and let it out before he made another he squeezed the trigger. He saw a faint cloud of blood, and the shadow vanished. Bullseyes. Jack let out a breath of relief.

"Boze, that was a shot of a lifetime!" Jack called as he climbed down the tree, "Boze?" Jack hopped to the ground and froze. A circle of soldiers aiming guns at the pair sucked away his happiness. He glared at Bozer who shrugged. They snatched Bertha from his hands.

"You treat my lady right; I'm gonna want her back." Jack snarled remembering the face of the soldier who had his beloved Barret. Jack raised his hands and grimaced as his hands were twisted and cuffed behind his back, "First the Shelby now Bertha, Boze this really has been a shitty week." Boze didn't answer as they were shoved toward one of the black vans.


	13. Chapter 13

"Ya know, Boze. I don't think I'd ever been tortured in a penthouse office before." Jack spun in his chains to grin at Bozer. Bozer eyeballed him a long minute managing a smile that normally came before puking. Bozer knew Jack was trying to distract him, but he wasn't Jack or Mac. He'd never faced torture before, and honestly, he was a bit of a pussy when it came to pain. He'd never known what scared was until this second, "Look at that view, damn." Jack smiled. Other than the impending doom, the office was a very nice office, Bozer admitted.

It had windows instead of walls. The hunched back of the Siskiyou mountain nesting in the tree-furred pass around it slept beneath a dark studded carpet of night and stars. They weren't in a penthouse so much as the top of the tower. The vast floor sported handmade plush rugs in a complicated Turkish style in hues of red and gold. Bozer swallowed coughing when there was no spit. Were other people's blood soaked into the reds, or did someone have the fun job of cleaning what had to be the most expensive carpet in the world? The furniture was Gentleman's Club leather and style. The lighting came from incandescent Conch lamps scattered around the room.

The massive desk before them was a dark wood that gleamed. Bozer doubted anyone ever used it. The desk calendar, feathered pens, and other office accouterments covered the top as organized as a showroom model. There was something efficient and evil about the office. It didn't help that it sat atop a tower that looked like a chimney from Auschwitz. The chains built into the ceiling that the two men dangled from by their wrists didn't help either. Bozer would hate to see what a written warning was like in this place.

The door to the elaborately decorated elevator opened and a man who could only be Corydon stepped out. He was surprisingly short, but still took up the whole room. He had dead grey eyes and shellacked short hair. His suit was Italian Silk made to fit his odd frame. He was fat but at the same time blocky with muscles. Bozer frowned. Other than the stone cold eyes he couldn't get a read on the guy. He had a pile of folders under his arm and set them on the table.

A half dozen soldiers entered the room and took positions around the room. Bozer thought they looked like interchangeable models from Call of Duty: Black Ops, minus the helmets. A familiar female form slinked in amidst the uniformed men.

"Aw hell, I thought we got rid of you." Jack moaned. Valencia Phyree-Grace perfectly coiffed as usual except the livid bruises staining her neck smiled sweetly. She walked closer to Jack and ran a long fingernail across Jack's chest while her tongue darted out and her eyes shown with hunger. Jack flinched totally creeped out, "Are we gonna go out or are you gonna slit my throat? I'm kinda getting a mixed vibe here." Valencia's face turned ugly. She lashed out leaving four bleeding claw marks across Jack's face. He winced and forced himself to smile.

"You really are a tarantula aren't you?" Jack really didn't know what he meant by that, but he wanted to piss the bitch off, and oh boy did he. Valencia flew into a swirling dervish dance that left Jack dazed, bloody and rasping for air past the agony in his chest. Valencia smiled and patted an escaped hair back into place. She reached forward and grabbed his jaw in two long pinchers.

"You are a tender morsel…" She cooed. Jack pulled away wincing as her blood tipped green nails tore skin with the movement.

"Valencia." The man said quietly. Valencia sighed and slowly walked past them. She paused in front of Bozer and lunged at him. Bozer yelped and shied away, his eyes almost entirely white as he stared at her more scared than he thought a human could fear. She laughed.

"You're going to be fun." Valencia smiled her eyes caressing Bozer's body, leaving him feeling dirty.

"Back off, sweetheart," Jack growled trying to draw the woman's attention from Bozer. She laughed and crossed to a loveseat and draped across it. Bozer shot Jack a tiny grateful smile. Jack sent him a cocky grin. They both turned as they heard the soft whine of the office chair behind the desk. The man leaned back his hands templed as he visually dissected his prisoners, "Corydon?" Jack demanded. The man smiled. It was an unpleasant show of narrow blades.

"Oh no, I'm not Corydon. They are my bosses; I am Claudius."

"The crazy-assed emperor of Rome? I can see that." Jack said. Bozer shot him a puzzled. Jack shrugged smiling," I loved that movie, it had Captain Picard in it." Unlike Valencia, Claudius was unruffled.

"Corydon is the United States in the Council. It was founded in 1857 when three revolutionary minds realized that the way to real power laid in control of the money in this country and the world. There was a massive panic in 1857, and millions of shops and businesses failed. Three farmers from Indiana put together their capital and slowly began to spread their web of control." Claudius stood up and moved to look out the window his hands behind his head.

"That's horseshit!" Jack groused. Claudius turned with an amused smile.

"You think so?"

"If you guys control the world, then why do you need babies to do your fighting?" Claudius nodded.

"Having power is easy, keeping it...well that's a little more tricky." Jack frowned a minute then smiled.

"They don't know what you're doing, do they?" Claudius gave Jack a genuine smile. He crossed to his desk and sat behind it again.

"Wh...what's he doing?" Bozer whispered.

"It's a power play. Ol' Claudius here wants assassins good enough to kill Corydon before they take him out. What you didn't pay the membership dues?" Jack mocked. Claudius leaned forward for the first time looking angry.

"You live up to your reputation, Jack." Jack blinked but gave no other sign of surprise. Was it really so surprising these asshats knew who he was?

"What? A dashing buccaneer?"

"Buccaneer?" Bozer said. Jack shot him a glare. Bozer shrugged, "Sorry I'da said Samurai." Jack grinned and turned back to Claudius.

"What? A dashing Samurai?" Claudius laughed.

"No, being an inventive and well-trained annoyance."

"Careful, that's almost a compliment," Jack said his smile completely false.

"Take it as one. Rabbit wouldn't gather any average people around him." Jack's eyes narrowed, and his body tightened craving battle desperately.

"Angus, his name is Angus." Jack's voice was low, cold and snapped across the office like a rawhide whip. Claudius laughed and itched his nose.

"I never knew why Mary chose that stupid name. She was a sweet girl...but not the brightest spark in the fire."

"Smart enough to escape," Bozer said. Claudius sprang to his feet face red. He leaned forward his ham-sized fists crashing into the desk scattering papers everywhere. Bozer went a hundred shades paler.

"Well that's 0 to 100 in 60, you ok there hoss?" Jack said. His voice was calm and lacked the hostile edge it'd had a minute ago. He didn't want to tip Claudius into a violent anger; it wouldn't end well for him or Bozer. Claudius took a deep breath and sat down organizing the papers. He shot Jack a sheepish smile.

"I'm sorry. I forgot that you are also known as a giant hemorrhoid." Jack laughed. He thought that was a good burn. Technically Bozer was the one who pissed the man off, but Jack didn't want to point that out.

"It's kinda my superpower," Jack said. Claudius nodded. His eyes narrowed, and he cocked his head to the side.

"If we had gotten to you sooner...you might be better than even Rabbit."

"Angus! It's Angus." Jack snarled. Claudius laughed.

"It may be on the surface, but underneath he'll always be Rabbit. Soon he'll be back in the fold and...well everything will be sunny side up in my world." Claudius had a dreamy look on his face and sighed contentedly. Jack really wanted to kill the man.

"Are you sure about that?" Jack challenged.

"Oh yes, I know him better than anyone else on this planet, I made him, he's mine." Jack pulled at his chains as he lunged toward the man growling. Claudius laughed.

"Oh, I know. You are best friends...Rabbit trusts you...he never carries a gun...he's a boyscout...blah, blah, blah…" The man leaned forward excitement in his eyes, "You've never seen him at his best. When he kills...oh, it's magnificent." Jack and Bozer shared a nervous look, "Soon he'll be mine again." To everyone's surprise, Jack started to laugh. Claudius clenched his teeth and came around to stand in front of Jack. He shot the Delta a look that would have intimidated most men, but Jack was not most men. Jack shook his head and looked at Claudius with pity.

"Man you are fucked, and you don't even know it." Jack's face turned serious, "You're right about Mac. I saw him kill...I ain't never seen anything like that before, and you wouldn't believe what I've seen the kid do. I know Mac's heart, something you had nothing to do with making and something you could never understand or control. Mac is coming, I do not doubt that, but he's coming for you and, man, you are way out of your weight class." Claudius opened his mouth to reply when the building shook with a devastating blast. Jack grinned, "There's my boy now if I were you I'd get the hell out of here."

Valencia stood up and touched the window. It frosted over like the windows in ops did only a camera view of the entrance hall downstairs filled the blank space. Another explosion rattled the building. The office supplies shook on the desk. Three more explosions tore into the building. Through the white glass, they could see the black plumes of smoke and reflections of savage flames. The next blast rattled them, ceiling tiles fell, and everyone fell to their knees except Bozer and Jack.

"Holy shit!" Bozer gasped. Jack frowned remembering Rook Island.

"This is so not good," Jack muttered. He could hear alarms, screams, and running feet. On the camera chaos and falling chunks of burning building killed hundreds of soldiers. Jack almost felt sorry for them. A familiar form strolled into the building. Mac swam against the tide. He stood waiting for the panicked mass to leave. A group of soldiers holding full automatic rifles stepped forward. Mac faced them unmoving. Jack couldn't see the kid's face but knew Mac wouldn't show much life there. One of the soldiers made the mistake of stepping too close. Mac moved almost too fast for the camera to see. He grabbed the man's hair tilted the man's head back slashed his throat then threw the knife into the eye of the next closest soldier. Mac grabbed the rifle before the body hit the floor and shot the others down methodically. In less than 30 seconds, two dozen men were bleeding dead on the ground. Mac looked up at the camera. He smiled and raised a box. All the cameras died.

Bozer shot a look at Jack, more afraid for Mac's soul than he'd been of the threats of torture. Jack nodded grimly. Claudius closed his eyes and took in a deep breath as if he were smelling something delicious. The soldiers in the room moved restlessly. Valencia floated to her feet a satisfied smile on her face. She turned to the soldiers.

"Form on the elevator, dolts. Shoot him as soon as the doors open." Jack's mouth dried and his heart thumped loudly. The elevator dinged and they watched as the numbers counted down. There was a long pause then the numbers started climbing again.

"Finally." Claudius breathed beside Jack. Jack shot the man a disbelieving glance. He had no idea of the kind of hell riding toward them. For the first time in his life, Jack felt a bone-deep fear of his partner. The doors opened, and Jack was deafened and blinded by six automatic rifles spitting their load in the enclosed space. When the cacophony died away, Jack looked at the elevator in panic. The doors and walls were pock-mocked by thousands of rounds; otherwise, the lift was empty. Jack shared a shocked look with Bozer. There was a heartbeat of silence then a slim body came hurtling feet first out of the elevator.

Mac stabbed the closest opponent in the throat and keeping his momentum slammed his elbow into another's throat, killing both instantly. Mac ducked a rifle but and lashed out slicing the man's femoral artery in the same movement. Mac dropped to the floor and cut the Achilles tendon on one man and kicked the knee out of another. Mac floated to his feet a rifle in his hands. Before the final two soldiers could move, Mac shot them down. The kid wasn't even breathing hard. Jack's mouth hung open. Mac's face was still empty of any spark of his usual self and blood dripped from the blonde from the crown of his head to his feet. Jack had no idea what was the kid's or what wasn't. Mac's movements were smooth, fluid and gave no sign of injury, but Jack knew in this disassociated state, Mac wouldn't be aware of any physical sensations.

Valencia stepped forward literally growling.

"Araña!" Claudius snapped. Valencia shot him a furious glare but stepped back to his side. Mac turned the gun to the four in the room and paused.

"Rabbit, you've done well. Kill the prisoners." Mac turned the rifle on Jack and Bozer.

"Brother, this ain't you! This is some shit these assholes stuck in your head. Come home, Mac. I need you." Mac blinked, but his expression didn't change.

"Rabbit! Do as you're told!" Claudius yelled.

"Mac, c'mon man. I'll make you waffles every day for the rest of your life…"

"I know you're in there, don't let them control you." Mac raised the rifle to his shoulder and shot two bullets at Bozer and Jack. He pivoted and sent a round hurtling toward Claudius's head. Valencia's eyes widened. She dove in front of the suited man taking the bullet in the bridge of her nose. Claudius stared at Mac his mouth hanging open in shock. Mac hesitated a heartbeat. Claudius squealed like a pig and ran to the elevator. Mac straightened and dropped the rifle staring at Valencia's body.

Jack sucked in a deep breath, his brain taking a minute to catch up on what happened. He glanced over at Bozer who'd fallen on the floor beside him. Mac had shot the chains apart, one round each binding. Jack grinned.

"I knew it! You ok, Boze?"

"I seriously need new shorts." Bozer's voice warbled weakly. Jack pulled free of the chains and pried the manacles open with a knife from one of the soldiers. He freed Bozer then stood up bracing himself. Mac hadn't moved a muscle.

"Hey, brother, do you know who I am?" Jack eased around until he was facing Mac. Mac stared a million light-years past Jack. Jack reached out and took Mac's hand. He winced at the sticky blood. Mac felt cold like a zombie. Jack shook away the dark thought, "Hey, kiddo. You did it, ok? Time to wake up." Mac blinked slowly. Jack hoped that was a good sign. He began to rub Mac's forearm gently, "Mac, man, I need you. Please come back...we, we can deal with all of this...please come back." Jack's eyes erupted with hot tears. Mac blinked again and frowned.

"That's it, come on brother. You're ok; I'm ok, we're ok. Come on, back." Mac's face screwed up in pain. He cried out bending forward a hand going to the side of his head. Mac swayed. Jack steadied the kid putting both hands on Mac's shoulders, "Mac?" Mac straightened and shook his head, blinking. He looked at Jack. In the time of one eyeblink, Mac was back.

"Jack! You're ok! Did it work?"

"Did wh…?" Mac rolled his eyes.

"The van getting Phoenix back?"

"Uh...yeah, yeah it worked great." Mac put a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Are you ok, big guy?" Looking into those familiar baby blues sparkling with life and worry, Jack pulled the younger man into a hug, "Uh...ok?" After Jack had his fill, Bozer stepped forward. Mac hugged him frowning, "What the hell is going on?" Mac took in his surroundings then looked down at his clothes awash in blood. He blanched and looked up at Jack; Jack could feel the panic spread through Mac's body like a fever. Mac closed his eyes and yelled in pain collapsing to the ground holding his arm. Jack fell beside him.

"Mac?" Mac looked at him with fear and confusion.

"Hurts...something broken…"

"Where?" Mac groaned his head falling back, His neck muscles bunched and sweat washed some of the blood away.

"Everywhere." Mac hissed. Jack looked up at the sound of boots trumping on stairs. He blinked around the office and looked at Bozer. Bozer stood and pointed to a rug that had a different pattern beside the elevator. A trapdoor.

"Shit!" Jack hissed as he snapped up a rifle and knelt ready by the square. Bozer looked around the office and smiled. He grabbed the fallen folders and rolled them into a short blungeon. Holding that in one fist he grabbed the stapler in the other. It wasn't much, but it'd have to do.

Mac fought to breathe through the agony rippling in every inch of his body. His thoughts were muddy. He looked up and frowned. Someone had wired a small microphone under the desk. Mac smiled. Power hungry crazies were a paranoid lot. His brain wasn't clear on everything that'd happened, but he knew there was something behind it, too vast even Phoenix couldn't bring it down without far-reaching consequences that would ripple across the world. Something woven into the fabric of society itself, something that could defeat Phoenix quickly and permanently. Mac closed his eyes trying to make his brain work through its sludge. Sometimes you had to kiss the devil to save your family. Mac smiled grimly and reached up to grab the microphone. After three tries he pulled it down to his mouth.

"I have a copy of all of Corydon's files. Meet me; we can make a deal." Mac's hand fell to his side. He closed his eyes. His body pressed into the fluffy carpet, too heavy and broken for him to move. He heard shouts and movement exploded around him, but he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore.


	14. Chapter 14

"Dude! Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Jack's voice was husky with his spike in fear as the hidden trap door opened. Only reflexes honed over decades of battle kept him from blowing off Collins's head. Collins grinned.

"Glad to see you too, Alpha one! But we need to get the hell out of here. The whole building's coming down."

"Hostiles?"

"Alpha and Beta are holding them at bay. The entire town's acting like a bee's nest. They're on their way here armed and ready to tear anybody in their way into pieces."  
"Shit. What's our exfil?" Collins looked down. Jack paused and raised an eyebrow.

"Well...we came in a Blackhawk...it fell off the building." Jack gaped at the man.

"It what?"

"This whole tower is coming down; the elevators don't work, we gotta move, sir." Jack nodded. He looked at Bozer who still held a stapler out as if it were an automatic weapon.

"Give me that! What the hell were you gonna do with that? Collate files?" Jack growled. Bozer threw the stapler down a sheepish look on his face. Jack shoved him toward the hidden door. Gamma squad stepped out and herded Bozer into the trap door. Jack turned and winced as he hauled Mac off the floor. Collins made to step forward. Jack glared at him. Collins smiled and nodded. Jack paused to get a better grip on his partner then headed toward the square hole. He envisioned the miles of steps before him and gritted his teeth. He'd make it no matter how far it was.

Once again Jack was surprised. This time it was almost as good as Madagascar. The stairs were wide and marble and moved. Jack nearly fell forward in surprise. Collins steadied him and grinned.

"Gotta love lazy bad guys," Jack said grinning back. He leaned Mac on the railing holding him close. It was surreal. The passageway played soft elevator music, and the high slanted ceiling had colors flashing in colors and designs set to the music. Both walls had images of mountains, oceans, deserts, and forests lit, so they looked alive. As far as escaping from bad guys lairs this was one of the easiest. Mac moaned and tried to wriggle out of Jack's arms weakly.

"Easy kiddo, you're ok." Mac blearily looked up at him then took in the decorated escalator. He looked at Jack puzzled.

"Is this real?" Jack smiled; the kid must think he's on an acid trip. The smile disappeared when he realized why Mac was so confused.

"Yeah, bud, freaky isn't it?" Mac managed to smile back. Mac realized he was in Jack's arms.

"Put me down. Why the hell are you carrying me? I'm fine." Jack studied his partner. Mac look dazed, drugged. Jack realized he wasn't quite entirely back yet.

"Trust me, brother, you are light years away from fine, you aren't even in the realm of not bad, and galaxies away from not screaming in agony!" Mac blinked at Jack.

"What?" Mac said, "None of that makes any sense." Jack took a deep breath and met Mac's gaze with a deadly serious one.

"Do you remember what happened?" Mac frowned staring at Jack.

"Jack, what are you talking about? We were in the van then…" Mac's voice trailed off, he closed his eyes and moaned. Jack could feel his body start to shake.

"Mac?" Jack's heart rate jumped in time with his worry. Mac lost his focus and his face clenched with pain. He looked at Jack his eyes filled with agony and confusion.

"Wh...what happened?...Going...shock…" Shit. Jack pulled Mac closer.

"Mac, dammit, you better stay with me or so help me I'm going to chop your bike into scrap and clean out your garage the way it should be." Mac gasped his breathing becoming fast and harsh.

"I'm...no..not...go…" Mac's eyes closed and his body went limp. Jack's hand did a fair amount of shaking as he dug his fingers into Mac's neck. Jack let out a pent-up breath.

"Jack?" Bozer asked. He stood half turned facing the two men. Jack could see his own fear reflected on Bozer's.

"He's alive; we have to get him out of here." Before anyone could say a word, the lights flickered and went off. The entire escalator shook and squeaked to a stop. The music turned into a slow moan. Gamma team lit their flashlights. Collins helped brace Jack, so he didn't drop Mac.

"I don't like this," Bozer whispered. Another boom shook them, they heard an ear-splitting creak, and the floor started to list to the left.

"Move, move, move!" Jack bellowed. Collins paused long enough to take half of Mac's weight then they were scurrying into the dark for their lives.

The heaving floor and waving streams of light from the flashlights gave the long trek down dizzying, and Jack felt bile back up in his throat with motion sickness. He was covered with sweat, rasping in fast breaths, he could feel the heat on his face, and his chest was reaching critical mass when they finally stumbled to the final level. There were three doors. They chose the one marked motor pool.

Steel I-beams hung bent or fallen, sparking wires dangled from the ceiling. Chunks of stone, wood and plaster landed on the sea of cars parked there. Collins yelled to his men and pointed to the left wall. He grinned at Jack. Two Churchhill crocodiles, tanks from WWII sat parked along the wall. Jack froze stunned. They looked like they had just come from the assembly line. Jack shook his head. Real fucking tanks. These people...Jack shook his head.

"Go!" He bellowed narrowly avoiding a car-sized cube of cement as it flattened a Porche. He pushed his tired body to move. Two men from Beta team weren't so lucky. One minute they were running alongside their teammates the next they were impaled by rebar. Jack winced at the blood streaming out of their bodies, "Keep moving, that's an order!" Jack yelled putting every ounce of command in his voice.

"Sir, they might be…"

"I said move, soldier!" With a final glance, they all ran toward the tanks. Jack's mouth tasted foul; he refused to look back. Even if they were alive, they wouldn't be for much longer. The men reached the tanks and scrambled inside.

"Jack!" Bozer grabbed his arm and pointed. Jack grinned. He looked up at Collins and Beta's commander.

"Go back to Phoenix don't stop for anything."

"If these people get in our way…"

"Run them over." Jack's voice was flat and sharp. The TAC men nodded grimly and closed the hatches. Jack pivoted and followed Bozer to his Shelby. Jack felt his heart about to burst. His baby, he'd thought lost forever. Today might turn out better than Madagascar! Bozer slid into the back seat and tossed the MacPhone on the floor. He reached out and pulled Mac in by the shoulders. Jack tucked Mac's long legs in, shut the door and sprinted for the front. Jack breathed out in relief. He still had the keys in his pocket!

The leonine roar of the Shelby was drowned out by the smoking skid of the tires as Jack bolted after the tanks. The tanks pushed their way through the cars and debris. Jack swerved and stomped on the gas avoiding chunks of buildings. One cement chunk landed on his hood denting it.

"Oh, C'mon!" Jack yelled. He spun a hard right and winced as the massive stone shrieked across the hood gouging it. He broke and yanked the wheel left doing a side skid to avoid a downed I-beam. The concrete skidded across to the other side of the hood. Jack felt like the deep ruts in the metal were thicker versions of the tears the spider bitch had carved into his face.

"Sorry, Jack," Bozer said quietly. Jack nodded appreciating the gesture. Finally, they were in sunlight. Chaos swirled around them. Screams, people running all direction, and the loud crash of the building coming down with a thick grey spume of dust. Jack focused on the tank in front of them. The car went over a hand full of mushy bumps. Jack's stomach flip-flopped.

"Stupid...stupid…" He muttered. Jack coughed and desperately tried to wipe thick layers of clinging dust from the windshield. The ground shook and bounced as the building behind them gave its last gasp and collapsed. Jack barely noticed. Then they were blowing through perfectly coifed neighborhoods empty of residents. Cultic mass suicide was nothing new, but this? This was evil; Jack had no other way to describe it. All these people brainwashed probably from childhood to rabidly attack and defend Claudius blindly and to the death. Jack hoped there was an exclusive circle of hell for that asshole, and he hoped he was in it. Jack started to relax when they were an hour out of Sonrisa. He flashed his lights, and the tanks pulled over.

The survivors of Beta did not try to hide their outright anger at Jack. Jack didn't apologize, nor did he want to dishonor the sacrifice the others had made. He nodded at his men and continued the impromptu briefing.

"Ok, we need to make sure we have enough fuel. If we don't we can combine the tanks and use only one, I know, I know that'd suck, but we're on thin pickings here." They discussed routes and did an inventory of the supplies. Jack was elated to find two military-grade medical kits. They also found quantities of water and MRE's. Everyone groaned but accepted the foil packets of food gratefully. Jack left his men to figure out the details of their trip home. The maximum speed these tanks could go on paved roads was only 40mph. The three-hour drive in would be stretched out to 5 or 6 unless they could find a shorter backwoods way. These tanks ate rough terrain for fun. However, they did not fare well on paved roads and paved roads sure as hell didn't fare well under them. Jack grimaced. Two Blackhawks at half a million...he didn't really want to add 200 miles of fixing roads to the total.

"I'm never getting paid again." He grumbled as he headed back to the Shelby. Worse, he might never be able to fly a Blackhawk again. Granted he wasn't the one who crashed the two birds, but he knew Matty enough that she'd find some way of making this all his fault. Jack mentally shrugged. He had more important things to worry about. He looked in at Bozer who'd put Mac's head on his lap. Jack bit his lip. Mac's lanky body balled up so he could fit in the car. As many injuries he had, this was not acceptable.

Jack lowered the roof. Bozer blinked.

"Whatcha doing?" He asked.

"There's some blankets and pillows in the trunk. We need to fix Mac up as much as we can." Bozer nodded and gently laid Mac's head on the seat. Bozer jumped out he returned less than a minute later with an armful of fluffy bed gear. He left them on the front seat and opened the back door. Jack worked from his side. They stretched Mac out. Mac cried out, and his eyes opened. He panted as if he couldn't get any air. Jack leaned forward.

"Hey, kiddo, you're ok." Jack took his hand. Mac blinked at him then glanced up at Bozer who crouched over him. Mac frowned in confusion. He mumbled something neither of them could make out, then drifted away again. Jack and Bozer shared a worried gaze then set to work. They managed to get Mac out of his bloody clothes. Jack tossed them on the side of the road and used the water to wash away the grime. He and Bozer gaped at Mac's body horrified. Almost every inch of skin had some bruise or wound. Jack counted five bullet wounds, thankfully none immediately life-threatening. A shattered right arm, broken ribs and a messed up knee twice it's usual size.

Jack focused on bandaging and splinting. Mac gasped in pain several times and blindly tried to push Jack's hands away. Bozer gently held them and softly babbled whatever ran through his mind. Jack figured it was mostly to help Bozer himself; Mac was too out of it to take in anything. When they finished, Mac looked like a bargain basement mummy. They built a fluffy nest around him and bundled him up. Mac sat high against the back driver's side door, and his bare feet hung a little over the passenger's. The elevation would help the swelling in his leg at least. Jack thought. After one final pow-wow, they were on the road, one tank in front of them, one behind. Jack flipped on some Led Zepplin. He and Bozer murmured about what to do when Mac remembers what he did, they both fell into silence having no answers.

Mac was flying on a cloud. He heard music from a mile away. Mac recognized it but was too tired to pull a name out of his weary memory. He swore his brain itself was on fire. Faces floated across his mind, a couple he knew most he didn't. They were awash with blood. Mac frowned blankly watching them pass by, a grim parade. He knew he wasn't getting something important, but Mac was too tired to focus, so he drifted. He was warm, and the sky above was pretty with fluffy clouds. Mac smiled. They looked like a scattered warren of rabbits. For some reason the thought made his gut clench. Mac moaned in pain.

"It's ok, brother. Just keep breathing." Mac smiled. Jack, as always and Bozer drifted in the fog in front of him too. Both looked worried. Mac frowned. He thought he should wonder why, but he was also content to float. He'd find out later.

Then the dream ended. Mac opened his eyes blindly reaching out to grab Jack's shirt eyes full as he fought for breath. Voices spun around him, he barely noticed. He arched his back and screamed as they lifted him onto a gurney. His chest felt like broken glass stabbed through his ribcage. Doc Carl was running along side him talking to Jack. Sally and Laura were leading the pack as they sped through Phoenix's halls.

Mac saw Riley and Matty rush by, but everything was swirling in pain. He screamed again moved to a treatment table. Tears ran down his cheeks as he mumbled to Jack. He wasn't sure what he was saying, if it made sense, or if anyone else could hear him, but he was begging for the pain to end. Lights spun around the room, into his eyes. People buzzed around him doing things, things that hurt. Mac closed his eyes and screamed as his shattered arm bones were yanked back into alignment. Everything sank into blackness then floated into shades of grey with layers of pain and noise then back into darkness. The only reliable thing was Jack, his warm hand tethering Mac to sanity. Then he was moving and cold. A green mask replaced his oxygen, he smelled a sugary chemical, and it all went away… Mac knew time passed. He'd drift into pain then float away. He knew he was in a hospital room and all the faces moving in and out of the fog looked worried. Mac couldn't hold onto anything. Jack was the only reason he didn't panic. Mac would mumble, he thought once he stood up but wasn't sure. Mac was sick, hot, shaking, and always pain would roar blocking out everything else, but Jack was still there. Finally, Mac was able to reach out to him.

"Jk?" Mac asked as his eyes floated open. Jack's scruffy face swam into view. He grinned. Mac managed a tiny smile. As ugly as it was, it was a great face to wake up to.

"Oh, brother, am I glad to see you awake!" Mac blinked taking in the room.

"So, we won?" Jack looked at him puzzled. Mac sighed and lifted his hand to wave around the room. He frowned. His right forearm and hand were in a thick plaster cast covered with hundreds of signatures. Mac laid his hand down and shook his head, "Phoenix? We are in Phoenix aren't we?" Jack nodded. Mac frowned, "How long have I been here?"

"Now relax, kiddo…" Mac's heart skipped a few beats. He went to sit up but found a brace on his chest. Mac pulled the blanket back his eyes widening. His left knee was in a plaster cast. Most of his body was stained purple and yellow. He pulled the covers back up and looked at Jack. Panic tightened his body. He grabbed Jack's black T, "Jack, tell me. What happened? How long have I been here?" Jack sat on the edge of the bed and took Mac's left hand in his.

"Mac, ya gotta breathe brother."

"Jack!" Jack huffed and looked away. He faced Mac. For the first time, Mac noticed healing lines across Jack's face. Mac reached up and turned Jack's head to the side. Jack captured his hand again, "What happened?" Mac's voice was soft with a growing sense of horror. Did he do that, was that what Jack didn't want to tell him? Mac's eyes dampened.

"Now hold up, Mac. These weren't none of your doing. That Valencia bitch has sharp kitty claws." Mac let out a relieved breath. He blinked at Jack.

"I don't remember that. Do I have a concussion?" He pulled his hand free and felt his head. He had a severe headache, but there weren't any bumps.

"No, will you stop that." Jack gently grabbed Mac's hand, "You've been in here two and a half months." Mac's eyes almost popped out of his head.

"Wh-what happened? Was it the van? The explosion?...I remember a desk, an office after that...and...and a bizarre stairway to hell, although that last bit might have been a hallucination or dream." Jack leaned forward forcing Mac to focus on him.

"Breathe, brother, breathe." Mac closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, "Ok, good. The plan went great, and we got Phoenix back." Mac narrowed his eyes. Jack wouldn't meet his gaze.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Jack, what are you hiding?" Jack let out a long breath, stood up and paced. Mac felt his stomach drop, "Matty? Riley? Bozer? Are they alright? Is somebody dead?" Mac's heartbeat skyrocketed; the monitor beside the bed squealed. Jack ran to Mac's bedside.

"Hey, hey...everybody's fine...calm down, you want Sally to come in?" Mac sank back against the pillow and slowed his breathing. A few minutes later it was quiet again. Mac's eyes burned with tears.

"Jack, what happened?" His voice conveyed a lifetime of pain. Jack sighed and looked into Mac's eyes.

"Kid, there is a whole lot more to this story, but I'm not going to tell you because when you're ready to handle it, you'll remember. Ok?" Mac felt his mouth dry. Was something done to him...Jack had seen him survive most everything...what? Mac's face bleached white.

"Did I do something?" He choked out. Jack's eyes moistened, and he looked away. Mac choked back a wail, "Did I hurt someone?" Jack's jaw clenched, and he squinted against tears. Mac felt his whole body go numb, "Jack, did I kill someone?" Jack looked at him. The pain on his partner's face answered his question. Mac sank back, "Who?" Jack took the kid's hand in both of his.

"When you're ready, you'll remember, ok?" Jack's voice was little more than a husky whisker. Mac couldn't help it, he cried. Jack gently lifted Mac up against him and held him.

"I'm a killer." Mac moaned. In his mind, he saw Murdoch explode. Mac unspun into painful sobs. Tears ran down Jack's face, and he prayed to God Mac's memory never came back. He held onto Mac until the kid stilled then went limp. Jack eased him back. Mac was sleeping. Jack brushed bangs off Mac's forehead. It was still a bright yellow from a healing bruise. Jack wiped Mac's tears away with his thumb.

"I'm sorry, brother. I truly am." Jack stayed for another hour staring blankly out the window. He ran his fingers over the claw marks on his face. Weirdly, he wished he could switch with Mac. It would mar the kid's face, but that would be a tiny inkling of scar compared to what the kid was going to face when...or if he remembered. Laura came in and shooed Jack out so she could give Mac a bed bath. Jack grinned at the thought.

"Oh, just wait handsome, one day it'll be your turn." The look the older woman gave him was not PG-13. Jack fled.

Mac opened his eyes as Laura was putting away Mac's bath kit. Mac frowned. He smelled nice. He took in what Laura was doing, and his face blushed enough he thought it was going to explode. The older woman turned around and gave Mac a genuine caring smile.

"There you are! How do you feel?" Mac sighed. He had to admit he felt a lot better and more relaxed being clean.

"Great...uh...thanks." Laura laughed while she checked the IVs.

"Kid, trust me you ain't got nothing I ain't seen before." Mac was dizzy from blushing. He looked away. Laura patted him on the shoulder. Her face was softer and kinder than Mac had ever seen before. Mac's heart jumped into his throat, "Are you ok, Mac? Can I help you in any way?" Mac hated pity.

"Could you tell me what happened?" Laura avoided meeting Mac's gaze. Mac leaned back and huffed, "let me guess no one's gonna say anything until my brain decides to work." Laura sighed and nodded. Mac closed his eyes and looked away. Laura cleaned up her gear and left.

Mac's frustration and impatience grew over the next three days. Everyone said the same thing. Mac started raging, slamming things, throwing anything within reach and yelling over everything. A fire burned inside him. He didn't understand it and couldn't control it. No one took offense, and every one gave him the same look of pity. The only relief he felt was when he was asleep in a dreamless black tunnel.

Mac woke up from a nap feeling someone watching him. He yawned and turned his head expecting to see Jack. Instead, an elderly woman sat knitting in Jack's chair. She glanced up and gave Mac a sweet grandmotherly smile.

"Ah, Angus. I wish I could say I'm happy you're feeling better, but honestly, if you died my life would be a whole lot easier. Nothing personal, you understand." Mac gaped at her and raised his bed. He glanced toward the door seeking weapons, "Don't be silly. If I wanted you dead, you would have never woken up. You said you have something I'm interested in and wanted to negotiate. I'm here." Mac rubbed his forehead. He vaguely remembered a microphone. He smiled as it clicked into place.

"You're Corydon." The woman rolled her eyes.

"Of course. My name is Ophelia. Where are the files you claim to have?"

"It's not just a claim. I do have them." Mac said meeting the old woman's dark embers. She had a sour look on her face.

"What do you want?" Mac looked at her safely.

"I want Phoenix to be safe and left alone including all of her agents, staff, and missions."

"Done, and?"

"I want the Man with no face gone and all of his programs ended forever." She smiled.

"Man with no face, how poetic. Claudius is his name. He'll be dealt with and everything shut down. Anything else?"

"Where's my father?" The woman rolled up her knitting and stood up.

"We have nothing to do with your father, we never did. I suggest you talk to Alice. I won't even have her killed so you can do so. Now the files?"

"They're in a safe place. I'm the only one that knows they exist or where they are. It'll stay that way as long as you keep your end of the deal." Ophelia studied him and nodded.

"Fair enough. Oh, and Rabbit, one last gift." She pulled a tablet out of her knitting bag and laid it on the bed, "There are some videos you may find interesting on there. We'll send proof Claudius is dealt with to that tablet so don't lose it, ok?" The old woman grabbed a cane she'd hung off the end of Mac's bed and hobbled out the door. Mac watched her go. He swallowed and picked up the tablet. His hands shook. He turned it on and clicked on the play video icon.

At first, he thought the footage was fake. The second viewing he began to take in the details. He was having trouble breathing. Images inside his head began to match the security footage he watched. Mac felt himself die as he saw what the others had kept from him. He wasn't just a killer; he was a mass killer. Mac screamed and threw the tablet across the room. He yanked all the wires from his arm and pushed out of bed. Mac hit anything in his way, breaking anything he could. He shattered the glass of the window with his cast and tried to climb out the window.

Arms grabbed him by his chest and heaved him back. Mac screamed again and hit, bit, kicked, and thrashed. Over and over he saw himself pull the trigger, slice with a knife...he screamed and fought all the while knowing there was no way to escape.


	15. Chapter 15

" _Though no one can go back and make a new beginning...Anyone can start over and make a new ending." Chico Xavier_

Jack watched Mac sleep and knew the kid was faking it. Jack leaned forward putting his elbows on his knees. Mac lost it for three days straight. Doc Carl put him on suicide watch, restrained him, and kept Mac heavily sedated, One of his teammates sat with him around the clock even when Mac stopped fighting. Mac retreated inside. He escaped into sleeping or faking it. When he was awake, Mac would sit in front of the window staring at the sky. The kid didn't say a word. He didn't interact with anyone, not even Jack. Even Fidget's occasional visit didn't snap him out of it. He'd stare into Fidget's confused eyes and turn his back on the dog. Worse of all, he stopped eating. Mac was a bag of bones.

"C'mon, brother. Talk to me, please?" Mac turned and blinked at Jack, but didn't say anything. His eyes were hollow, empty holes of despair. Mac turned back to the window. Jack stood up and paced the room. They had tried threatening, blackmail, loving, nagging, ignoring and anything else anyone in the building could imagine. Nothing. Jack huffed. He had to do something or Mac was going to die. It was that simple, so Jack kidnapped Mac.

The older man waited until Doc Carl declared him physically stable. Jack explained his plan to the others who endorsed it wholeheartedly. Riley and Bozer demanded to join Jack and Mac, but Jack said this was something the pair needed to heal both of them. Besides, someone had to take care of their boys; it was going to be hard enough on Elmer and Fidget. Reluctantly they agreed. Sally and Doc Carl gave Jack a substantial first aid kit for anything that might come up and wished him well. Everyone knew Mac's life hung in the balance. Collins borrowed a yacht from his millionaire brother and helped Jack fill it with enough supplies to last a few months.

"How long are you going to be gone?" Matty asked standing in front of Jack. Jack sighed and shook his head.

"As long as it takes Matty." Matty smiled and wrapped Jack in a hug. Jack leaned forward and returned the gesture.

"Thanks for this," Jack said brushing dampness from his eyes. Matty sighed and shrugged.

"You better go before I change my mind there's a lot to clean up." Jack nodded bent and kissed the woman on her cheek. Matty fake-frowned and slapped him across the cheek. Jack grinned and fought the urge to ruffle Matty's hair. Jack had learned a long time ago not to skinny dip with piranhas. He turned and took the elevator to B5.

Sally waited for him pushing a wheelchair already bundled with blankets and pillows. Jack paused. Sally turned away rubbing her nose trying to hide the slow leak of tears. Jack reached out and wrapped the woman in a hug. She put her head on Jack's chest shaking for a long minute. When Sally pulled away, she pulled a packet of tissues out of her pocket, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose. Jack frowned at the strain on the woman's face. Jack chucked her chin until Sally looked up at him.

"Hey, hey...Sally this isn't your fault any more than it's Mac's."

"I know that in my head, but…" Sally threw up her hands. Jack gently squeezed her shoulder.

"How's Doc Carl?" Sally gave him a wan smile.

"About how you'd expect. We'll all be better when you bring Mac back in one piece." Jack smiled.

"That's the idea, Sally. You don't worry about us, worry about that poker shark you have at home." As he expected, the thought of her ten-year-old sister brought a genuine smile to the redhead's elfin features. She sighed.

"I just wish we'd have some way of reaching you if…" Jack gave Sally a reassuring half-hug.

"We have a sat phone, and you'll be the first one I'll call if something comes up...or if I need you to terrorize Mac." Sally laughed and punched Jack's shoulder. She glanced down the hall and nodded.

"Well, I better go hide so you can make your escape." Jack nodded and pushed the chair into Mac's room. Mac was sitting and staring out the window. His body slumped in defeat looking like a melted candle.

"Hey, kiddo, ready to bust outta here?" Mac slowly turned and blinked at Jack.

"What are you talking about?" Mac's voice was barely above a whisper. Jack winced at how raspy and weak it was. Mac looked like it took all of his effort to manage the pathetic squeak. Jack swallowed forcing down his natural instinct to hug Mac into submission.

"Escape, book it, go on the lam?" Mac raised an eyebrow. Compared to the empty despair over the past few months, it might as well have been a belly laugh. Jack parked the wheelchair and put on the breaks. Mac's eyes turned flat. Jack knew the kid was about to refuse.

Before Mac had a chance to get out a word, Jack lifted the kid under his armpits and sat him in the wheelchair. Jack's breath caught at how light Mac had become. Mac's eyes fluttered, and the kid slumped forward shivering. Jack bundled him in blankets, put pillows under both of his arms, and put on the seat belt to keep his partner in the wheelchair.

The kid was paper skin hanging off bones. Mac groaned, his head flopping forward. Jack whirled them off the unit and out of the building.

The _Moll Flanders_ was a forty-foot Leopard 38 catamaran with four cabins nicer than most of the luxury hotels where Jack had stayed. Jack paused to take a deep breath of the Pacific. He closed his eyes feeling the brine and soft breathing of the waves calm him. The yacht looked ungainly with her two holds and tall sail hanging limply over the cockpit. Jack knew that the double hold design was sturdier in the choppy seas of the Pacific. Jack smiled. He hadn't been sailing since he'd gone to college, but it always brought out a sense of freedom especially when no land or other ships were in sight. Jack could almost feel cinder blocks that had been piling into a massive wall around him flake away. He looked down at the pathetically thin limp form in the wheelchair. If it weren't for the fact he was trying to save Mac's life, this would be the vacation of a lifetime.

Jack scooped up Mac. Jack didn't even have to strain to hold the unconscious lanky man in his arms. Not good. He stepped up the stairs to the bridge of the boat. He worked Mac down a small flight of stairs to the port side berth. It was half the size of the master's suite on the starboard side, but the bunk was close to the floor. Jack eased Mac onto the queen-sized bed and covered him. Mac's eyes drifted open, and he frowned taking in his surroundings.

"Where are we?" The kid rasped through chapped lips. Jack brushed Mac's bangs back and smiled.

"I kidnapped you, we are going on vacation and you my brother are going to get better." Mac's face filled with haunted despair and his eyes glimmered with tears that were painful to see. Jack sighed. He wanted to scoop Mac up and make everything better, but he knew this was going to take some tough love. Jack closed his eyes wondering if he had the guts to do what needed to be done. His own eyes teared up, and he watched Mac sink into sleep again, "Oh kid. Don't let me down ok?" Jack went up to the cockpit and slowly left the dock heading for the open ocean.

 _Mac was a Clown with fangs dripping with blood. He couldn't move. Mac looked down and began to pant with panic. His elbows, hands, knees, and feet were controlled by thick ropes. Looking up, he saw a circle of giants with blurry faces laughing as they moved him like a marionette. Mac had a gun in his hand. His heart thudded as he tried to drop it but couldn't let go. He fought against it but walked to a dark room full of rodents and shredded mess. No! Along the wall, playing in the muck like children was his family. No, no, no. Please, no. Matty laughed and playfully pushed Riley. Bozer and Jack leaned over a broken toy trying to fix it. Mac's hand raised, and he was firing. Each round was a perfect hit He watched each of his friends fall dead blood spraypainting the wall behind them. Mac turned at the sound of clapping. Murdoch in all black grinned at him. Oh, Macgyver you are so much better than I ever could be, my hat off to you…  
_

Mac's eyes snapped open, and he panted a long second before his surroundings distracted him. He frowned. He was on a bed, no a bunk. Everything had a gentle rocking motion to it. A boat. The walls were polished wood; the room had a soothing salty breeze. Mac looked above his head a square hatch showed him an unmarred blue sky. Mac's chest hitched and wrung out more tears. Mac closed his eyes. The room's airiness, being at sea, the magnificent berth all felt clean, he was the only stain on it.

"Finally." Jack said as he peeped in the door. Mac looked over unable to muster even a hint of a smile. Jack nodded, his face taking on a tragic resignation that Mac didn't understand. Jack pulled a stool in and sat beside the bed. He crossed his arms over his chest. Mac felt a pang of fear break through the familiar wall of guilt. Jack stared at him like a complete stranger.

"Jack?" Mac whispered, "Are you…" Jack held up a hand stopping Mac's husky question. He leaned forward his eyes cold. Mac felt what the many prisoners Jack broke must have felt. His heart flip-flopped.

"Mac, this has to end. All of us, your family, have tried everything we know how to do to help you and nothing's worked. You are going to die, brother." Jack paused tears flooding his eyes. Jack took a steadying breath. Mac's breath caught in his belly as Jack pulled out his Baretta. Mac tried to sit. Jack didn't move to stop him. He didn't have to, Mac's own weakness pushed him back to the bunk. Jack cleared his throat strangling to get out the next words, "I know you're confused and overwhelmed, probably feeling a crushing guilt and despair. I'm here to help you, but I am not here to watch you kill yourself. If that's what you want to do, do it quick. Take a bullet, don't make me watch you waste away, man. For me...if you ever cared for me, do it quick or don't do it at all." Jack was fighting sobs as he cocked the Baretta and set it on the bed beside Mac. Jack stood up and left.

Mac stared at the gun: it blurred through a curtain of tears. He reached down and lifted it. Mac closed his eyes and put the cold metal against his forehead. He took in the smell of gun oil, the heft. It felt alien, foul in his hands. Inside Mac screamed, knowing he knew how to use the pistol as a surgical instrument. He was a tool, nothing more. His family would be safer if he were gone. Mac wouldn't hurt them anymore. He began to shake and hit his forehead with the gun. Mac wanted to scream, to wail...to pull the trigger. He thought about the people he'd killed; he'd MURDERED. Mac was worse than Murdoch; it would be a favor to the world if Mac ended it now before he hurt anyone else. All this...agony would be over. Mac took a deep breath. He stared at the trigger feeling a calm dark circle open inside him. Mac ran his finger along the little comma-shaped metal piece. How easy to end a life, he thought. One tug.

Mac sighed and dropped the gun into his lap. He stared at the unmoving perfect sky above his head. Mac couldn't. He thought about Matty, Riley, Bozer, Jack. Especially Jack. Mac closed his eyes and let the tears come. They hadn't given up on him. He desperately wished they would, but they didn't.

Mac looked up at a scrape of a boot at the door. Jack had been waiting outside the berth eyes closed, hardly breathing, lips moving with desperate prayers. He let out a deep breath when he saw Mac drop the gun away from his head. Mac looked at him in torment. His body tried to shake apart. Jack smiled and crossed to his partner. He scooped up the kid, pulling the gun out of his hands. Mac clung to him his hands fisting into the back of Jack's shirt.

The sobs started quietly and soon grew into a heartwrenching wail. Jack held the bony kid close letting loose a few cries of his own. Mac lasted about twenty minutes before exhaustion overtook him. Jack laid him back.

"Jack, I'm sorry... I don't know how...I don't know who..." Mac couldn't sputter anything else. His eyes screamed for something Jack wasn't sure he could give, but he was damn sure going to try.

"That's why you got me!" Jack said his voice gruff with emotion. Mac looked away. Jack squeezed his too thin shoulder, "Always, kiddo. You always have me. Now get some sleep. I'll be up with some broth later." Mac frowned before he could say anything Jack shot an eyebrow up. Mac managed a small smile and nodded.

Mac watched the blue diamond sky outside slowly slide to sapphire. He couldn't sleep. He felt like a monster lived inside him, and it terrified him. Was there eve a "Mac" or was there only the "Rabbit" sleeping, waiting for control? Mac knew his brain chewed the same circles over and over in a downward spiral, but he didn't know how to stop it? How many had he killed? Even if he agreed with what everyone had been telling him, which he didn't, that those he murdered while out of it weren't his fault, what about Murdoch? When had murder become a viable solution to him? Or was that who he really was and he'd always been a murderer waiting to spring out? Mac was so deep in thought he hadn't realized how much time had passed.

"Hey." Mac jumped. He hadn't heard Jack come in.

"Hey." He rasped back. Jack smiled. Mac felt guilty. A simple hello made Jack so happy? Mac realized what a complete dick he'd been to his loyal friend. He looked away. Jack, as always, knew what he was thinking. Mac was grateful Jack ignored it. He brought in a small fold-out table. Jack carried a 2-liter bottle of water and silver coffee thermos. He also pulled out a fat black bound book and pack of pens. Mac frowned at them. Jack sat down on the edge of his bunk. Before Mac could open his mouth, Jack held up a hand.

"Ok, here's how this is going to go. You are going to eat this broth five times a day. You will drink that entire bottle of water each day, and you will work out three times a day."

"Work out?"

"Dude, I'm not going to carry your ass around all the time," Jack said it jokingly, Mac looked down and nodded. Jack sighed and put a hand on Mac's arm,"Look this is going to take time and work, I will help you, I will work with you, but this is something you have to do for yourself." Mac looked out the side port window. The waves were a quiet splash, and the soothing rocking made him feel safe. Mac sniffed more tears running down his face. He nodded. Jack sighed in relief, "And now for the fun part." Mac looked at Jack with dread. That ironic tone never boded well. Jack lifted the book and handed it to Mac. Mac barely had the strength to hold it. He opened it and frowned all the pages were blank. He snorted and shot Jack a genuine half smile.

"Quick read." Jack laughed and nodded.

"For now. See you're going to have to fill that up." Mac looked at him surprised.

"A diary?"

"Whatever you want to call it, You have a lot to process and work through. I'm here whenever you need me, but I know sometimes things get stuck in that brain of yours that you don't want me to know. That's fine, but you need to untie some serious knots brother." Mac ran his hand over the smooth black cover thoughtfully. He'd never been one to deal with his feelings, let alone write them down. The idea terrified and intrigued him. He looked at Jack a thump of fear bobbing across his mind.

"Look, I swear on my Father's grave. I will never read or look in that book unless you ask me to, OK. We are the only one on this boat it is perfectly safe, ok?" Mac nodded and wiped away a whole new flood of tears. If Jack promised, it was set in stone. Mac let out a deep breath. He managed a tepid smile

"Thanks, Jack...for…" Mac trailed off. Everything was too small a world. Jack gently squeezed his shoulder and smiled back. Mac nodded, "Oprah or Dr. Phil?" Jack laughed. Mac thought it was the brightest thing he'd experienced since this whole thing started...years ago?

"Dr. Mendez." Mac's eyes widened in surprise. Jack shook his head, "This is a team effort, bud. Everyone is pulling for you. Sally started a betting pool." Mac raised an eyebrow.

"A what?"

"Betting pool. Everyone is putting money in a hat. Whoever guesses the closest to your weight when we get back gets the pot." Mac smiled even as his heart clenched with pain. Everyone cared for him that much? Even after...Jack could see the downward spiral start. He stood up slapping his thighs.

"Ok dinner first." He handed Mac the silver thermos. Mac couldn't help but think of it as an adult sippy cup. He took a sip and frowned at Jack. It wasn't broth. It was thick and chunky with a hint of chicken flavor. Jack grinned, "It's a nutrition broth. Bozer, Riley and Doc Carl got together with ortho and surgery to mix up the formula. Every four ounces has the nutrition of a full steak and potato meal with all the trimmings. You're just lucky I didn't let Sally pick the flavor." Mac made a face and took another sip. He paused taking a deep breath. Nausea made his head spin, "here, kiddo." Jack handed him a cup of water. Mac drank it down. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was. He felt full. Mac gave Jack pleading eyes. Jack crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. Mac thought of the effort everyone had put in and sighed. He forced himself to finish the rest.

He felt bloated like he'd overeaten on Thanksgiving. He drank another glass of water and sank back exhausted. How the hell was he going to eat five of those a day?

"That was four ounces, bud. Next week we go up to six, then eight. By then you'll be ready for real food." Mac sighed. That seemed impossibly far in the future. He didn't know if he'd make it. Jack took the cups and thumped the book and pens on his lap.

"I'll be back in a couple of hours to start working those muscles." Mac glared at the book and sighed.

"Help me sit up?" Jack grinned and hauled Mac up in bed putting a mountain of pillows behind him. Mac closed his eyes against dizziness for a long minute. He nodded at Jack," Thanks." Jack patted Mac on the arm and squeezed gently.

"It's genuinely my pleasure, brother. We'll get you there; I promise ok?" Mac nodded looking down at his hands. For the multi-billionth time wondering how he had ever been blessed to have Jack in his life. He glanced up, and the room was empty. Mac sighed. He felt a little like he did when taking a blue-book exam in school. He cracked open the book and opened the bag of pens. Someone had the foresight to put them in an easy to open Ziploc bag. Mac smiled when he noticed they were all different colors and labeled. Mac squinted and almost laughed. Each label had a message from one of his friends and their name. Mac closed his eyes and picked one at random. Purple, Riley-"Think a happy thought everytime you use this!" Mac felt a lump in his throat.

"I will." He said. He stared at the white page. Had anything ever been so intimidating? Mac shook his head and started to write. He rambled about the weather, the sky...then he had no words. He sobbed and slashed at the paper with the pen ripping it. His strength gave out, and the book and pen fell from his hand. He leaned back and cried himself to sleep.

Jack peeped in when he heard Mac quiet. It killed him to listen to the kid's sobs and not do anything, but he knew Mac had a lot to get out. Jack tiptoed in and picked up the book. He fought the urge to look inside and set it down on the table he'd slid to the side of Mac's bunk. He rounded up the pens and smiled as he repacked them. The pens had been Bozer's idea. He and Riley had picked out the most durable they could find. More importantly, they hunted for pens that Mac couldn't tear apart. Jack had put a few in the bag. Mac had no idea the news had spread throughout all of Phoenix, and everyone had come up with one. Jack had a sack holding hundreds of pens.

Jack sighed looking at Mac who still leaked tears while he was sleeping. There was so much hurt and pain. The kid had no idea how many people loved him and wanted him well. Jack gently brushed Mac's bangs out of his face. Mac moaned turning into the gesture. The kid reached out and grabbed Jack's T-shirt by instinct. Jack sat on the side of the bed and began to rub Mac's forearm. He could feel the tension leave Mac's body and his partner fell into a deep sleep. Jack smiled.

"It's gonna be ok, kiddo." He whispered.


	16. Chapter 16

Mac's bellows of pain devolved into tearful cussing.

"Remember to breathe, kiddo." Mac glared at him but did as he said,

"You're enjoying this too much." Mac panted. Jack grinned and eased Mac's leg to the bunk.

"Nooo, I just want to make sure...ok, yeah a bit. We're almost done. Just the arms." Mac closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of relief. He'd slept until dark. Then Jack had started his "workout." Work out? Shit, it was boot camp hell hidden under physical therapy. Sad was the day, Mac wished for Sally. Mac opened his eyes. His body quivered, and sweat poured from everywhere. He looked up at Jack's face, and although the elder man hid it, Mac could see how much he hated this. Mac managed a smile.

"It's ok, big guy. It's been awhile since I've...well, done anything." Mac felt himself float toward the sewer of guilt again.

"Alright." Jack lifted up one of the pillows he'd pulled off the bed. He held it over Mac's head, "You're a powerlifter, this is your bar, ready?" Mac nodded and held the pillow a hand on both sides. He began to lift and lower it. Mac felt tears of frustration join the layer of sweat. In only five repetitions his arms shook and ached as if he'd been powerlifting 600 pounds. Mac gritted his teeth and closed his eyes shutting out his shame. How had he come to this? Mac finished Jack's routine without a word.

Jack smiled as Mac collapsed after the last hand grip. He knew the kid wasn't a quitter. He'd seen the frustration and despair set in, but he'd also seen the teeth grit and determination flare. Jack sat beside the bed. He could tell Mac was exhausted, but Jack knew that if he left Mac to rest now, the kid would sink into the tar pit he dangled over.

"Ok, shower time." Mac looked up at Jack in disbelief.

"No offense, but you stink, dude. After that, I have a surprise for you." Mac huffed and nodded. It was a sound of resignation than excitement, but Jack would take it. Carrying Mac to the head where the shower was would have been quick or easy, but Jack had determined at the start of this cruise that quick and easy wasn't going to happen. He held most of Mac's weight as the skeletally thin man forced shaky step after shaky step. Mac's body was shaking by the time the reached the shower. Mac was huffing and groaned with relief as he sank into a shower seat strapped to the floor. He bent forward holding his head in his hands a long minute catching his breath. Jack waited until Mac braced himself and reached to untie the hospital gown he was still wearing.

Jack let him do as much as he could stepping in only to help when Mac asked. Some of the MacGyver stubbornness was coming back; Jack was happy to see it. Finally, Mac sat hunched and naked staring at his scrawny legs and scarred feet. Jack hung a caddy of soap, shampoo, and washcloths on a hook beside him. Mac looked up and gave an anemic smile.

"Thanks." Jack smiled.

"I'm going to be right out here, when you need me call me, ok?" Mac nodded tiredly. Jack closed the door and waited until he heard the spurt of water start. He smiled at the yelp Mac gave. Water on boats tended to be hotter than you'd expect. The reserve tank is small and heats quickly. Jack sat on the floor beside the door. He smiled when Mac groaned in happiness and steam started to waft into the room. Jack leaned his head back breathing in the warm air. Contentment swirled through him. Mac was still fragile as hell, but he'd made a turn. Jack was happy he could finally do something active to help his friend. In some ways, Jack had been adrift as much as Mac had been. He thought about everything that had happened since the battle in the theater. Jack frowned trying to figure out how long ago that had been; he shook his head. It didn't matter.

After that, they'd taken hit over and over again. Mac and Jack were accustomed to constant danger and mission after mission, but this was different, much worse. This time had been a systematic attack on their whole world including who they were. Hurting and not being able to help Mac as the kid disintegrated had deeply wounded Jack inside. He absently rubbed a tear away. Then when he'd shot and beaten his partner...Jack sniffed and shook his head. He knew Mac didn't blame him, but Jack felt enough guilt to go around the world and back again. Helping him now, eased that. Rebuilding their partnership, friendship, hell-identity...Jack smiled. Yep, that is definitely something that will heal him inside and out. Their world will be right again, wobbly maybe, but definitely whole or Jack will sink this boat trying.

"Hey, Jack? Could you…" Mac's voice ended in a creaky breath. Mac had been crying again. Jack expected they'd both spill a lot of tears in their near future. Jack opened the door. Mac stared forlornly down at the suds going out the drain.

"Need help with the hair?" Jack made his voice as matter of fact as he could. He knew how much Mac hated to ask for help on the best of days. Mac nodded.

"Back and...and…" Jack put a hand on the kid's shoulder. He crouched to Mac's height.

"Feet?" Mac ducked his head. Jack's heart broke seeing the slump of Mac's shoulders. He gently soaped up a washcloth and washed Mac's feet. He winced at the sharp intake of breath as he ran his hand over the hundreds of suture scars circling the bottom of both his feet. Physically the wounds from his foot whipping had healed perfectly. Mentally? Not even close. Jack washed Mac's lower legs. He winced at how much paler his left was. The newer scars from knee surgery were pink and angry with the skin paled by the six weeks in a cast. Jack stepped back. Mac hosed off his legs and feet with the handheld showerhead. Mac leaned forward as Jack worked shampoo in his hair. Jack smiled feeling the tension leave his friend's body. Jack closed his eyes and forced himself to keep his breathing unchanged when he got to the kid's back. He could see every rib, every knuckle along his spine and the hatchet shapes of his scapula. Jack used his hand to smooth on the suds. As thin and weak as Mac's skin was, a washcloth would have ripped it off the top of those bones.

Jack helped Mac finish the rest of the kid's shower and put cream over all the boney joints. Mac was almost out on his feet as Jack maneuvered him into sweats, T-shirt, and hoody. Jack frowned. Bozer had brought a few of Mac's sweats waists in as far as he could, they still hung baggy. Jack slid on some fluffy socks that had googly eyes and sewed nose and ears. Mac glanced at Jack.

"Those are gifts from Fidget and Elmer. These Elmer picked out the others are all your boy's fault." Mac laughed. Jack didn't think he'd heard a more beautiful song in the world. Mac sighed instantly falling into the tar pit. Jack dried and combed the kid's hair then bent and smiled at him.

"Another meal, then the surprise." Mac closed his eyes. He tried to lift his arm to pull himself up but couldn't. He was too tired, "Lucky you have a dashing prince like me!" Jack joked as he carefully lifted Mac into his arms. Mac grunted in reply. Jack smiled at Mac curled in closer to him. He doubted his brother even knew he did it.

Behind the sail, the _Moll Flanders_ had a carpeted salon with soft plush recliners circling a fireplace. Jack had a fire blazing. It took the chill from the wind and lit the starry night with the warmth of home. Jack set Mac down in the recliner closest to the fireplace and bundled him in the blankets he'd laid there. Mac leaned back and smiled staring up at the dizzying vastness of the star field spread as far as the eye could see. He looked over at Jack.

"This is great, thank you." Jack chuckled.

"That's not even the surprise yet." Mac raised an eyebrow.

"Supper first." Jack chided. Mac huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Fine." Jack had to help Mac hold the thermos as he slowly choked the thick liquid down. Mac managed three cups of water then sat back with a groan.

"I haven't felt this full since that Mahalo banquet in Hawaii." Jack chuckled finishing his meal of burger and fries.

"I hear you, that was some seriously good shit." He set the plates aside and leaned forward. With a grin, Jack pulled out two long necks of beer. Mac grinned and raised an eyebrow.

"Sally said you could give me a beer?" Jack chuckled.

"I don't see why we have to disturb her pretty red head about a measly beer, do you? Unless you're too full?" Mac laughed.

"There's always room for beer." Mac managed to take the bottle and clink it against Jack's before Jack had to hold it for him. Mac only managed half the bottle, but he sank back a contented smile on his face. Jack smiled, the beer had actually been Sally's idea. Mac needed all the calories he could get, and full beer was calories with a whiff of alcohol. Jack turned to say something to Mac, but the kid was out cold. Jack smiled as he leaned over bundling the blankets closer. Jack finished his beer then cleaned the dishes and shower. Mac was snoring with a small happy smile on his face when Jack returned. Jack brushed aside the kid's bangs and sighed. It'd been a good day, but only the first. He knew it would have to get worse before it got better.

They were two weeks in when the nightmares and terrors started. Jack jerked awake in his berth at the first scream. His heat pounded loud as he dashed to Mac's bunk. Mac was tearing at his face as if it were a mask he could tear off. Crap. Jack sat beside him and captured his hands.

"Please don't kill it! Please don't make me…" Jack grimaced and shook Mac's shoulders. Mac twisted and fought. Jack lifted him up and pulled him into a tight hug. He was glad Mac was still weak otherwise Jack would be taking a hell of a beating. Jack pulled the kid in closer and rubbed his back making shushing sounds. Mac's body jumped, and the hitting stopped, "Jack!" Jack felt tears fall at the pain and pleading in that one word. He pulled Mac closer.

"I'm here, brother. I'm here. It's ok." Mac started sobbing and squeezed Jack, his hands fisting Jack's shirt. After forever and a day, Mac finally pulled away. He sat back wiping the tears and snot on his face. Jack got a towel to give the kid a few minutes to collect himself. Jack stared down at his hands. He took the towel and mumbled thanks but didn't look up. Jack could feel him sinking deeper into tar, "Do you want to talk?" Mac shook his head. Jack bit his tongue. He stood up and got the black book and pulled out a pen. It was black and from Bozer-We are on a mission from God. Jack rolled his eyes at the Blues Brother's quote. Without a word, Jack put the pen and book on Mac's lap and walked out. He planted himself out of Mac's line of sight and sat back, stretching out for the whole night.

This distress became an almost nightly routine for the next three weeks. Jack had to fight the urge to pry problems from Mac's head. Dr. Mendez had made it clear that Mac needed to keep whatever shreds of boundaries he had left intact. It was infuriating not being able to reach over and heal the kid, but Mendez had seen them through a lot.

Mac worked quickly from exercising with Jack, to himself, to wobbling around the boat, to independent movement. As his natural impatience grew, Mac began to do laps on the ship. Jack didn't say anything about Mac needing to bleed off nervous energy. He turned his focus to feeding the kid. Mac became argumentative. Jack knew it was half frustration and half pent-up rage. He forced himself to be a calm rock in Mac's storms. Patience and cold Delta stares won pretty much every battle over food. Jack was pleased when Mac couldn't fit into the tiny waisted sweats anymore. He dutifully gave Mac the next size up without comment.

Mac began to scrawl obsessively in the black book. Many times he cried over it, a few times Jack had to rescue it from going in the fire or ocean, and one time he passed through the galley to see Mac stabbing it repeatedly with a boning knife. Jack paused, opened his mouth, then decided it would be better for Mac to take his anger out on a wad of paper. Jack poured his coffee and retreated without a word.

Two months in things started to stabilize. Mac still sank low, but he was moving and acting more like himself. He smiled and laughed more comfortable, and some of the shadows in his eyes went away at least for a little while. One night after taking a shower, Jack found Mac sitting in front of the fireplace staring at the dancing flames hypnotized. Jack could feel tension pulsing from the kid.

"Hey, Mac, you ok?" Mac let out a long sigh and looked up. His face looked like the face of an octogenarian. Jack sat beside him and handed the kid a beer. Mac offered a fleeting smile and sipped for a long minute. Jack waited. He knew Mac was trying to put words to feelings but felt overwhelmed. Mac's shoulders slumped in defeat before he got a word out. Jack cleared his throat and took a sip of beer.

"I ever tell you why I left Hugh's unit?" Mac looked up surprised and shook his head. Jack never talked about his time with Hugh other than to tell stories about how they tore up Tijuana and got thrown out of bars in every zip code. Jack pulled his knees to his chest and circled them with his arms. 

"Hugh was like a big brother to me. If it weren't for him, I would never have made it through training if it wasn't for him. We saw a lot of rough times man…" Jack stared into the fire a long minute then cleared his throat and took a sip of beer, "Then Hugh started taking jobs for the CIA, wet work." Jack shared a sour look with Mac who hung on his every word. Jack took in and breathed out a long breath, "It was cold, calculated and brutal murder, Mac. I told myself I did it for my country, but...honestly I don't know if that's true. Something inside me changed, went numb." Jack finished his beer and set aside the bottle staring into the fire.

"I didn't notice how bloodier the missions get, how much Hugh started to get off on killing people damn the consequences. Toward the end there, I started to wonder if we were doing legit missions or not. Then came Budapest…" Jack closed his eyes and brushed tears from the corner of his eyes. Mac moved closer until he was sitting beside Jack his posture mirroring Jack's. Jack coughed and pushed out the rest of the story, "We had bad intel...kids were killed, man. About fifty kids...I don't think a one of them was in their teens. It was a fluke that I hadn't done any of the actual killing, my part of the mission was overwatch."

"You wouldn't have." Jack looked at Mac sadly, "Yes, I would have. I stood looking at these tiny bodies...I felt nothing, Mac. Absolutely nothing. I wasn't bothered by the killing; I was more bothered that everyone else was celebrating it as a victory."

"Bothered that you weren't bothered more?" Jack shot him a fleeting smile.

"I don't know, probably. I drank whiskey that night-A LOT of whiskeys. Then I sat there...I don't know...off? Something just wasn't right with the world, ya know? I saw my service weapon, and I swear my body moved by itself. I picked it up and aimed it." Jack held his hand as if it were a gun pointing at his skull. He could feel Mac go still, "I fired it. Hugh happened to be wondering by on his way to the latrine. He pushed it away and saved my life. Hugh talked me down that night and stayed with me. He got us leave, and we hit the shiny points of the South. I smiled and was all happy like, but inside…" Jack held a gaze with Mac, "It wasn't good, buddy. Not good at all. I went over Hugh's head and bailed. I ended up on a mission to rescue a pain in the ass EOD tech who had gotten himself captured." Mac looked down his mouth twitching in a shadow of a smile.

"That's the debt you owed Hugh." Mac murmured. Jack reached out and grabbed Mac's arm.

"Yeah, but that's nothing to the debt I owe you." Mac shook his head.

"I don't know why you always say that!" Mac said.

"I say it because it's true, now sit back down. I'm not finished." Mac looked down surprised. He hadn't noticed he'd risen to his feet. His heart was crashing against his ribs, and he twitched with the need to run. Mac bit down on it and forced himself to sit back down. He looked at Jack and nodded, "See I'd lived in such a dark world so long, I'd forgotten there was anything good left." Mac snorted bitterly.

"Good? How can you say that?" Mac looked up at the sky and closed his eyes.

"Because it's true. No, you aren't an angel or all sunshine and light, but you always try to do the right thing. You help people become better just by knowing you." Mac rubbed his eyes with a shaking hand.

"Jack…" He begged.

"I know you think I'm exaggerating or putting you on a pedestal, but I'm not. You have a heart of gold, Mac."

"Stop!" Mac snapped standing up, "A heart of gold? Are you fucking kidding me? I have the heart of a mass murderer, an assassin!" Mac paced then stopped and fell to his knees giving Jack a look of desperation, "How am I suppose to live with that? I don't even know if that's the real me, have I been faking it all this time?" Mac slumped into a melted puddle. Jack moved closer and held him by the shoulders forcing the blonde to meet his eyes.

"I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told that mother who put this crap into your brain. They trained you to kill people long before you had any control of it. It took them a long time and a lot of pain before they made that part strong enough to take over, but they had nothing to do with your heart. That's all you. Even when you were killing guys, who were they? People hurting others? You've seen the footage; you had plenty of times to kill Bozer or me, asshat even ordered you to kill us. But you didn't. I don't know who you're gonna be after all this. I think that will be up to you, but I know your heart, kiddo, and it's solid 24 carrots."

"But Murdoch…" Mac asked softly looking away.

"...seriously needed killing. Do you think Murdoch would ever stop or get better?"

"No, but…"

"But nothing, brother." They sat quietly together for a long minute. Jack pulled Mac to his side and handed him another beer. They both sipped and stared at the fire for a long moment.

"You know I heard once that who you are is a verb, not a noun," Jack said finally. Mac shot him a surprised smile. Jack looked at him and sighed, "Fine it was Dr. Phil, alright. But I think that ol' boy's got some sense." Mac shook his head then fell into thought.

"You are your choices," Mac said softly. He frowned. Jack could see him turning that idea over in his ginormous brain. He patted the kid on the back and stood up.

"I'm gonna go to bed. These luxury yachts are nice and all, but they ain't my bed at home." Mac smiled up at him.

"Thanks, brother." The kid said. Jack felt like the Grinch after his heart stretched.

"Always, kid." Mac watched the man disappear down the hatch. Mac closed his eyes and looked up at the endless stars. He thought about how big the universe was. His brain automatically scrolled through distances and formula. Mac smiled. The jewels above, the ocean, the fire, the math...and the company-Mac felt so incredibly grateful. He sighed feeling the familiar sharp edges inside.

Maybe he was putting himself on a pedestal. Mac leaned his chin on his knee and stared into the flames trying to tease out the thought. He thought of Jack's story. He had no doubt that Jack had felt every nick, bruise and bullet wound of every single one of those killed kids. Jack had gotten overwhelmed, lost in the darkness. Mac felt his heart sag in his gut. He'd never understood how his partner could be so cold and cruel when he had to be, but so goofy and loving a heartbeat later. Mac decided he had been sanctimonious and blind. Jack somehow managed to keep a balance. If Jack lost either half, would he even be Jack anymore? Mac rubbed his head. Philosophical questions gave him such a headache.

Mac had done many things he wasn't proud of but never imagined he would kill in cold blood. Stupid phrase, cold blood? Blood was so hot when it spilled. Mac finished his beer. Always Mac told himself there's another way, guns weren't the answer. At his core, Mac still believed that. But he...Mac shook his head. Going in circles wasn't helping. He reached over and grabbed the fat black book. He smiled running his hand over the stab wounds. He'd never killed a book before. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Mac pulled out a pen. Green, Matty-Get better, Blondie. Or else! Mac laughed and pulled out the next one. Red, Sally-Shots hurt less when you have meat on your bones. Mac shivered and threw that one overboard. He pulled out another. Black, Doc Carl-I'm sorry. This is all my fault, not yours, Mac. Mac dropped the others and stared at the one in his hand. How could Doc Carl possibly think this was his fault? Just because he tried to help Mac? It was only…

"Oh." Mac murmured. He felt an almost audible click in his head. He nodded at the pen, "I get it, Doc, I get it." Mac used Doc Car's pen to scribble furiously in the journal. He was still writing when Jack walked on deck bleary-eyed in the morning.

"Didn't you sleep?" Jack groaned yawning. Mac looked up in surprise. He grinned at Jack, stood up and hugged the man.

"I have a surprise for you tonight!"

"Uh...ok?" Jack mumbled as Mac pushed past him and almost hopped down to the lower deck. Jack rubbed his tired face, "Damn, I'm good." Jack yawned then staggered off to find coffee.

That night felt lighter normal. Mac's face was bright, and he almost vibrated with energy. All day he'd scrubbed, stocked, and polished the entire yacht. He didn't say so, but Jack suspected that they would be heading home soon. Jack sighed in contentment. He felt ready to reenter life again too.

After a dinner of delicious Tuna which Jack had caught that afternoon after Mac ordered him to fish and relax. Mac looked up at Jack his eyes serious, but healthy.

"You saved my life here, Jack." Mac started. Jack waited quietly belying the fireworks bursting through his heart, "I...I know it's not over and there'll always be shit to wade through, and stuff will always be there to slap us down hard. But...Jack, even when I was the most lost, not just tonight but...well since always. I have had only two stones I could stand on, one was knowing my mother loved me…"Mac's breath hitched. He didn't swipe at the stream of tears, "I never realized how much until all this...but the other thing is that you'd always be there. I know...I know you've been through shit too...and I hope I've been there even a fraction of how you've been...but…" Mac stopped. Jack leaned forward and wrapped him in a hug.

"You have no idea how much you've been there to help me, brother." Jack said. After a long minute, both men broke free and turned away pulling themselves together. Mac cleared his throat.

"Anyway...here…" Mac took his journal and handed it to Jack. Jack's mouth dropped open, and he accepted it with the same reverence he had when he accepted the flag from his father's coffin, "You can read it if you want, or...whatever. I just think...I just think it's safe with you." Jack nodded and ran his hand along the stab wounds. He thought of everything they'd endured. He looked at Mac with a smile.

"Mac, you have no idea how much this means to me...but I think it's time we cut ourselves free." Mac stood up and looked at him confused. Jack turned and threw the book in the fireplace. Mac smiled and put a hand on Jack's shoulder. They both watched the flames lick the corners then wrinkle the paper. Neither looked away until all that remained was ash and smoke.

"I think I'm ready to go home." Mac said.

"Yeah, me too. Morning?"

"Sure." Jack laughed. Mac eyed him confused.

"I'm just wondering who's gonna win the pool on your weight."

"Better not be Sally." Mac growled, "Did you put in money?"

"Hell yeah, I gotta support m'boy!" Mac laughed.

"So what are you going to do with it if you win?"

"I think our boys need some decent toys and maybe a pair of awesome dog-caves."

"Dog-caves?"

"Yeah, you know-man-caves for dogs?" Mac looked thoughtful.

"You know, if we get the materials we can build them, I can even put in running water fountains…"

"Yeah, we could have a party-like one of those old barnstormings?"

"I think you mean barn raising?"

"Yeah that too, what do you think?" Mac grinned and took a deep clean breath. 

"I think that is perfect." Jack patted Mac on the back.

"Me too," Mac chewed on the edge of a pen. Jack could see his brain whirl into full gear planning the projects. Jack put his arm around the kid's shoulders, "Me too, brother." Mac shot him a glance and nodded.

"Thank you, brother." He replied.

Ok, guys, I have to confess I feel all mushy inside. Wah! These guys kill it. Anyway, thank you all so, so, so much for reading/ commenting/ favoriting and following. I look back at the early stories in the Valhalla saga and can see how much I've improved with each one. It's all thanks to you and your encouragement. Thank you! I have a Christmas story coming up-The Most Deadly Time of The Year. Christmas done Poxelda-style! After that, I'm kind of at a loss. Anybody got any ideas? Thank you so much, you guys are the best, peace.


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